


Enchanted To Meet Me?

by Moonlite_drabbles



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alchemist Tubbo, Angst, Dream SMP War, Emotional Manipulation, Enchanter Tubbo, Fluff, Friendship, He's tired, Hurt and comfort, I mess a bit with the timeline, L'manburg revelution, Manipulation, No Smut, Platonic Relationships, Potioneer Tubbo, SHIPPERS DNI, Spoilers, Tommy and Tubbo Friendship, Tubbo's jungle base, Vilbur, Villain Wilbur Soot, and theres also a mule, but you knew that, her name is diana, it is superior, minecraft worldbuilding, this makes it sound worse than it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlite_drabbles/pseuds/Moonlite_drabbles
Summary: Tubbo lived happily. Alone. In the sprawling treehouses he called his jungle base. There he refined the art of mixing and making potions. Forging weapons with powerful enchantments. Was he a bit lonely? Yes. But that was solved when he first met Tommy and then Wilbur.Then a war started, and Tubbo was never too good at that, but Wilbur asked for his help. Told him they could do something great. They promised him a place in L’manburg after the war.So there he worked, creating potions and aiding L’manburg from the shadows. And when Wilbur requested him to transport potions through enemy territory, he did so.But the Dream Team gets to him first, and they are a bit concerned about the increasing number of children working under Wilbur’s rule. Only narrowly escaping, now he only has more eyes on his back.He just doesn't want anyone to get hurt.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 311
Kudos: 763





	1. What happens in a potion's lab?

Potion combining was a peculiar task. The reactions of multiple foreign ingredients mixed together were both unpredictable and exhilarating. One needed to memorize which ingredients wouldn’t explode upon contact, the proper temperatures to simmer the potions at, and the proper way to store them. 

Tubbo loved it.

The gunpowder hissed as it dissolved into the boiling water. He waited, then poured the liquid into a fragile bottle meant for throwing. Of his own design of course. The glass was brittle. It was important if he wanted the bottles not to break in his bag, but to smash when tossed against the floor. 

The bubbling of the stands filled the large room. It felt like music to his ears. Particularly calming on days like these. Humming along with the boiling of potions.

He laid it out to cool and turned to another stand. Stewing together were the glimmering mellon and the fermented spider's eye. The spider eyes in particular were a pain to collect, luckily Tommy always seemed to have a strange abundance of them. 

He mixed the concoction, smiling softly as it turned a burgundy color. Then he strained out the ingredients, leaving only the juice. 

Harming potion prepared, he continued onto the poison.

It needed to be an immediate acting substance, and extremely potent. Two bottles were already stewing on the pot. One was an ugly orange mixture, spider eyes bobbing on the surface. The second only had one, from an abnormally large arachnid he had found deep in his main cave system. He only was able to salvage six of its eyes, but he had personally experienced a bit of its poison, and was confident it would be potent as all hell.

The rancid smell wafted from the mixtures. Unsure if he’d pass out, he leaned as far back as he could and picked the first bottle by the neck with a pair of tongs.

He strained it out, then slowly poured one solution into the other.

Each potion was a painstaking process. At least an hour spent on each. Luckily, he never really left his home. The jungle base settled high in the trees. 

Sighing, he corked the bottle, labeled it, and set it on the shelves. Among the many other ones. 

His hands were sweaty, and he was extremely hot. He peeled off his work apron, discarding it by the door, then ran off to clean himself up.

Wilbur and Tommy were coming today.

Wilbur and Tommy arrived via glitch-portal an hour later. Tommy had rushed forward, scooping Tubbo into a hug, and pulling Tubbo up on his tiptoes to reciprocate it.

“Big T!”

“Tommy!” he pulled back, grinning. “I finished a couple new potions today. They’re still in testing, but they should work! Come on, you have to see!”

Tubbo led them over to his alchemy tower. Proudly pulling the green shifting to red potion off the shelves. Showing it off happily.

He tried not to let what it was sure to be used for distract him. His mood was too good for that.

“The aim of the mixture is to combine an extremely potent poison with a delayed harming reaction. The poison effect should be immediate. Delaying the harming was the really hard part, and it’d only really work on the ones with thick diamond or netherite armor, after eating through the material. ”

“That’s not too much of an issue. Dream and his goons will be nothing less than decked out with netherite. But what happens if they aren’t?”

“Well, then It’ll be the opposite, harming, then a dose of poison.”

“That doesn't seem too bad.”

“But the reaction will be immediate, but not deadly. They’ll be on half a heart. It’ll give them a chance to drink milk or gapple up-”

“Tubbo, I don't think anyone will be carrying milk on them into battle.” Tommy grinned,

“But they’ll have gapples,” Wilbur shot Tommy a look, and he immediately quieted and turned to mess with one of the stands.

“Yea,” Tubbo awkwardly looked up to his leader.

He’d never been a real part of L’manburg. Instead a resource guy, a weapon forger, the enchanter. Not even officially a citizen. But Wilbur promised him a place within the walls when the war finished, and he was happy to take it when the time came. 

“Tubbo.” Wilbur said, a fierce look in his eyes as he set a hand on his shoulder. “We really wouldn’t have made it too far without you. That little brewing stand, within the walls? It’s nothing compared to this.”

Wilbur looked around him, and Tubbo followed. Proud of his own work.

The walls were lined with shelves along shelves of brewing stands and potions. Only one wall was left alone, a large window opening to the expanse of trees and the rest of his jungle base.

“But Tubbo.” there it was. “We need you to keep doing this. But we also need more. I'm asking you to transport the potions straight to L’manburg. A new fight is coming. I know it. Dream’s silent. That’s never good.”

“Wilbur, I can transport all the potions I have stored for you, but it could take days, maybe even a week--traveling the overworld? It’ll be near impossible to get it there in the time frame you're implying.”

“Then do it by nether.”

“N-nether? Dream owns the nether, and I’d have to pass through the hub to get anywhere close to a portal in L’manburg. What if-”

“Tubbo,” Wilbur grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into the boy's eyes. “Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo, we have to do this. Alright. Get those to us, and we could win the war.”

His voice was soft. But Tubbo knew somewhere in him that it wasn’t meant for him, the tone and words wielded like a sword. 

Tubbo swallowed harshly, but nodded. “I’ll leave tonight, I should be there by late afternoon tomorrow.”

Wilbur nodded and gestured for Tommy to follow him out the door.

Tubbo suddenly perked up, “Wait!” 

He darted over to his shelves, pawning through the thick bottles of potions, and pulled one from the back of the shelf.

Tommy gave Tubbo a look as his friend scrambled over to him, presenting it like a gift. Still, he took it delicately. Holding it up to peer through the glass.

“Warpotion.”

“Explain,” Wilbur said simply. Eyeing the potion as if it were radioactive.

Orange shifted to pink then blue and back again. Radiating like a sunset. The soft glow lit up Tommy’s face. Tommy shook the bottle a bit.

Tubbo nervously tugged on his hair. “It’s uh-it's another mixture. Speed, strength, and regen. I thought-I thought it might be helpful. In case something, well-”

“We get it Tubbo, don't fall over.” Tommy grinned. “this is wild.”

“Ah! Tubbo, my main man.” Wilbur slung a hand over Tubbo’s shoulder “Look at all this. Really--and I mean this Tubbo--this war, with you? Cake walk.”

Tubbo smiled, and Wilbur patted the boys back. And no, he did not stumble from the force of it, he isn't some type of baby bird. (Tommy shot him a mocking grin, and Tubbo resorted with the dirtiest glare he could manage. Which looked akin to a pouting kitten.)

Tommy stifled a laugh as Wilbur turned back to them, and strolled right out the door. “Well, Tubbo, it’s really been a blast. We should expect those by sundown tomorrow, yes?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Well, Tommy, business is done, lets go.”

Tubbo watched from the doorway as they walked out, standing on the high deck of his jungle base. Tommy waved, and Wilbur took out a small redstone device.

Suddenly, their forms glitched and shifted, then disappeared.


	2. Wartable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Around the war table. They plan.

“Dream.”

A man, dressed in pale green and white, leaned over the war table. A red marker with a chewed cap limp in his fingers as he tried to think. 

His bodysuit, cream white in color, hugged his slim form tightly with belts and buckles meant to store his many weapons.

George crept deeper into the room. Sighing as he saw his friend.

“Sap, George. You’re back.” His head snapped up, and a breathless smile slipped onto his lips under the mask. “Any updates?”

“Yea, Wilbur and Tommy disappeared from the L’manburg base a few hours earlier today. I wasn’t able to track them, probably used a teleportation exploit.” Sapnap took the seat to his left, stretching out with a couple cracks of his bones, then sinking into the seat.,

“I’ll patch that later, what were they doing?”

“Not sure, but I caught them talking ‘bout supplies. Potions probably, the lot of em already have netherite.”

Sapnap laid his chin on his hand and smiled. “Strange, considering they have a drug caravan dedicated to just that.”

“Who knows what goes down in that meth lab,” George grinned.

“This is getting annoying,” Sapnap cut in, “can’t we just storm them and take them down.”

“Ah come on, it’s fun fighting them.” 

“Stressful is what it is. Planning all the time, they are refusing to make the first move. And we can’t either.” Dream grimaced, “They outnumber us.”

“We are good enough, and we can take a few more people.” Sapnap spoke, “They aren’t even good.”

“No,” dream became sollem “But I did get into a bit of a fight with one of them earlier—Fundy I think—they tossed down a potion and I got slowness and blindness. It was stronger than any other I’ve experienced. Could barely move, couldn’t even see my own two feet. He fled, but who knows what would have happened had he dropped a lava bucket down.”

“What?”

“Excuse me?” George jumped to his feet, “they did what?”

“It’s not that bad-”

“When was this? I swear on all that is-”

“A day ago.”

“A day-A DAY?”

“Look.” Dream snapped, and George settled back down in his chair, mumbling something about Dream’s safety. “The problem is that they have a supplier on their side who is probably one of the best potioneers I’ve seen. God knows no one in L’manburg would be able to do that—“

“Yea, I’ve seen the fox accidentally drop a poison splash onto his foot.” George said.

“—We need to track them down, and either get them on our side, or take them out.”

“Alright, alright.” Sapnap said. But nobody missed the way his eyes stayed on Dream an uncomfortably long time. Flicking over him, searching for some sort of crack in his armor. 

George was a bit more open with his concern. Lip chewed between his teeth as he stared

“Where did it happen?”

“Forest, neutral territory.”

“That's a declaration of war.” Sapnap said.

“Not exactly.” dream answered. George raised an eyebrow, and Dream scratched the back of his neck. “I may have shot him through the shoulder. Unprecedented.”

“Wow.”

Sapnap barked out a laugh. “That’s my Dream! Probably took all of his hearts too. No wonder he fled.”

They continued the meeting, ultimately deciding that if they disappeared for long, they probably went far. And if they were meeting with their supplier, then they would have to pass through the nether. 

Teleportation exploits had a good chance of wiping one’s inventory. Anyone carrying the goods wouldn’t risk it. They’d be transported by foot or donkey. And most likely through the nether for time. They’d just have to wait them out and hope this mysterious “supplier” used the community portals.

And then? Well, then they’d either have a potioneer on their side. Or, at least potioneer off Wilbur’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give me critic or comments. They feud my soul. 
> 
> And wow this got a lot in a day. Posting this from homeroom (secretly hehe) was a little worried about posting.... this. But HEY. I GOT THIS. A little. Please tell me your theories and what you want to see. :) Sorry.


	3. No Sleep in the Nether

Tubbo was never any sort of fighter. Never would be. But his enchanting prowess made up for that. The thin, carved wood of his bow glimmered in his hold. Its name flashed in the air. Rainherold. A glitched weapon.

Diana—his carefully bred mule—was packed, chests slung over her hide on both sides, storing shulker boxes full of supplies. They shimmered with unbreaking and fire resistance. 

He took a moment to scratch her behind the ears, smiling as he did so. She was young, and kind. Ready to follow him into hell. Literally. 

The nether was no place for any type of overworld dwelling creature. But netherite horse armor covered her head, neck, and hide, draped over the chest. If anyone suffered the most through this war, it was probably diana. Not her first trip into the nether. Even her fifteen hearts couldn’t combat the ire of piglins too well. So he had gold armor on the ready.

He slung the bow over his shoulder and cracked the reins on his mule. A sharp winnie cut into the air, and he set off through the portal.

His horse whinnied at the heavy heat that radiated from the lava pools below. Tubbo stroked her neck, and gulped a bit. The heat resistance—dulled down fire resistance mixed with a bit of dragon's breath—would be enough to protect her. 

But the heat was the least of Tubbo’s worries. The rocky , crumbling path was the thing that caught his breath deep in his throat. 

After hours of walking, shooting arrows into ghasts to bottle their tears, and stopping to quickly carve out some quartz from the walls for xp, they came across their first real roadblock. And it towered over the 

He looked at the bridge with a careful gaze. Netherrack arched over the lava. Diana huffed, nose nudging into his back, and he stumbled closer to the edge. 

The lead wrapped tightly around his fist. Thick rope dug harshly into his skin. It only served to ground him a little as he stepped onto the rocks.

His breaths were uneven as he walked, Diana following steadily behind him. She’d walk straight into the apocalypse if he was the one holding the lead. If he was calm, she wouldn’t think twice before walking over lava. So he bit his lip and hoped she didn’t hear the beating of his heart.

It was about halfway across when both the heat and the tight feeling of his nerves bundled tightly started to get to him. Diana noticed, and slowly grew more. He listened to the nervous flick of her tail whipping the smoldering air. 

“Don’t worry. We aren’t gonna fall. I got this.” his voice was shaky, “Promise.”

It took everything in his power not to sprint the last couple of feet. 

The unnaturally cold dirt beneath his boots. He fell to his knees.

Diana shook her mane, and laid down, hooves folded beneath her as she rested. Soul sand was cold to the touch, and sucked the energy right out of the heavy air, and out of Tubbo. That was probably the reason soul sand couldn’t exist in the real world unless sitting next to magma blocks. 

His movements were sluggish, and he hadn’t opted to put a soul strider enchantment on his boots. The beautifully carved golden cowboy boots. They already had blast protection and the best fire protection he could get. And yes, he could have put projectile protection, but that hardly would help unless the “enemy” for some reason, decided his feet were the way to go. 

“Good job, Di Di. Definitely better than me.” he heaved himself up and sighed, then glanced around him. “Based on my totally accurate perception of time, I'd say it'd be night right around now, we better set up camp.”

He dusted the soul sand off of him, then turned to the nether wall. With his picaxe--maxed out a litter further than the game every intended a pickaxe to be, he dug a deep 

If Tubbo had three talents, it was potions, enchanting, and somehow doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be doing by accident. Through accidental means, he’d previously created a pickaxe with a ten block reach and efficiency faster than tommy’s ability to piss someone off. Of course, this only sparked curiosity.

He’d managed to enchant riptide onto a bow that would drag him through rain or river faster than any trident. That one was probably his favorite.

Others included an axe able to shatter shields with efficiency meant to be used on trees. Diamond boots with knockback and feather falling so one would be thrown in the air whenever they stomped too hard. And even one very stupid sword which was unusually good at cutting grass. 

Enchanting things with enchantments not meant for them was… exhilarating. Some stupid teenage boy part of him felt as if it was him yelling “you arent my mom” at the gods. And that was fun.

He stepped into his hole in the wall. “Ah, home sweet home. Diana, this is where I belong. In a hole. In hell.” 

He fell back onto the netherrack floor. Diana made a sound similar to what Wilbur sounded like when he heard Tubbo or Tommy say something absolutely idiotic. 

“Yep, that's right, no more jungle base or L’manburg. Just hell. Really, I think it actually suits me quite well.” he glanced over to his mule, and frowned. “Oh come one, Tommy would have laughed at that.” 

Diana’s ears shot upwards as Tubbo whistled sharply.

Slowly, she rose from the cold, tight grip of the soul sand and walked over to Tubbo, ducking as she entered the shelter.

He set down a campfire, then took some grass blocks he’d collected previously and laid them down. Earlier, he had made sure to be prepared before taking a mule through the Nether. Hay, cauldron, water, ect ect. Diana didn’t hesitate before laying down on the grass. 

“I really do treat you right, huh?” Diana turned her head away so that she could stare him in the eye. He smiled, and grabbed a carrot. Carefully holding it out on a flat palm. “It’s fine, I would feel bad if I didn’t. As long as you dont mistake my fingers for carrots, we’ll be all good.”

He laughed at the tickle of her whiskers against his skin. 

After dinner was eaten and all was finished, he checked the supplies, then double checked. He spent the next hour in his journal, furiously attempting to calculate the duration of the heat resistance potions. Then set himself to reapplying them at least twice as often as that. 

When that was done, he tossed his notebook down and pressed himself against the shelter’s wall. Absentmindedly, he spoke to himself. Diana seemed to pay attention. At least for a while. She was little help in the way of conversation, but he just let the words come and go. Her presence made everything feel a bit less lonely. 

“Honestly, I think all this time alone in the base and here and stuff—I may lose it. Just warning you.”

“Do you think Tommy is gonna pick me up, or will Wilbur? No, no, Wilbur will be busy. He’s a very busy man. Very very. What does he even do?”

“So, what’s your favorite color? Mine’s yellow and green.” 

“Can horses even see yellow and green?”

They stayed like that. For a bit at least. He just spoke, letting the words pour from his mouth as they came to him. Eventually, Diana’s eyes closed. Tubbo didn’t dare drift off, knowing the results would be catastrophic. Sleeping in the nether, bed or otherwise, usually causes spontaneous combustion. 

He wondered if a splash potion inducing sleep would be lethal in the nether. 

Scrambling for his notebook, he dug the idea into the page with an ink dipped feather. 

Thoughts like those were stored on those pages, kept for a later date. Tubbo bit his lip. Wilbur probably wouldn’t care for the idea. Combat in this war took place mainly in the overworld. Their fights he only heard about through whispers. Still, he could theorize about the mixture and the process. 

Maybe it would be useful after. After the war and when Wilbur finally let him in the walls.

Tubbo took a breath. Air heavy with heat filled his lungs and settled there for a while. Letting his aching muscles simmer and relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it’s out late. Was just going over some things. 
> 
> Diana is baby. I’ve decided. I put her in there so Tubbo had someone to talk to, and now I’m attached. She’s a mule, and YES I know that miles can’t have armor... but leave me alone
> 
> As always, PLEASE COMMENT THEY GIVE ME POWER. (Do I sound like a YouTuber?) and CRITIC PLEASE


	4. Introductions that aren't Really That.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nether isn't the best place to fight.

Sapnap settled into the grooves of the netherrack walls. Letting the dark red stone conceal his form. George was somewhere among the sharp outcroppings of netherrack across from him. 

The path cut through the middle of opposite facing cliffs, marked with cobble, and leading straight into the nether hub. 

A thick feeling of apparition rose in his throat as he waited, shifting from one foot to the other. Dark netherite blended him into the terrain well, but he was still wearing a white long-sleeved shirt beneath it. 

“Ughhh, It’s hot.”

“Oh wow,” Sapnap responded plainly, inspecting his blade.

“I’m not joking, couldn’t we have done this, y’know, somewhere with less lava.”

“I told you to change George.”

“I didn't know we’d be here for litteral hours Sap.”

“If only someone told you-”

“Shut it-” he snapped, “they’re here.”

A rhythmic crunch of horseshoes against netherrack bounced down the path. It only took a few moments before the mount and their rider rounded the corner. 

The fight went by in flashes.

Two people, both clad in netherite, dropped down around him. Blocking both the exits. He knew who these men were. 

“Get off the horse.”

Diana reared as a sharp blade pointed at Tubbo. He reacted immediately. A potion, swirling with shades of gray and sky blue, slammed down to the ground and broke upon contact. 

George fell to the ground, blinded and clutching himself. Tubbo barely had time to glance his way before a sword clattered down onto his shield. Sapnap barged forward and swung freely. His weapon down onto the only thing between Tubbo and the blade. Hacking and slashing down.

His shield shimmered with unbreaking. His saving grace, because the sword slashed down into the wood.

Tubbo was forced backwards, one uneasy step at a time. A cold terror filled his body as his shoulder blades bumped netherrack. He was helpless, pinned back, even with the potions sat tied to his belt. A constant onslaught of attacks from Sapnap prevented him from grabbing them. 

“G-get away from me!”

Tubbo bit his tongue, and slammed the shield forward. It hit his attacker’s frame square on, knocking him off his feet. 

He slammed down a potion. Glass and red-green swirling liquid flying through the air.

He turned tail and bolted. Jumping over the limp body of his other attacker. A sharp whistle cut through the air, and Diana responded down the path. “Diana!”

Tubbo counted about thirty seconds before he reached Diana, and his attackers couldn’t outrun her. But his muscles ached and threatened to give out. Still, he pushed himself forward. Diana running his way.

Sapnap pushed himself up, fingers curling in a tight grip around his bow. A dark enchanted brown, bowstring tight. Deadly. Luckily, he wasn’t aiming for a kill.

The arrow dug into the back of Tubbo’s thigh.

It burned. His feet stumbled and got caught under him. The netherrack came hard, and the vials of potions shattered under him.

Sapnap’s head pounded as he forced himself to remain standing. The alchemist laid limp on the ground, potions oozing on the floor under them. Their horse reared and acted up down the path, whinnying and tearing as it waited for its rider.

He stumbled towards the alchemist, drawing a lead from his inventory. Carefully, as to not touch the potions, he dragged the boy from the mess of swirling liquids. 

There was no way they were getting up from that.

The alchemist was set down on some clean netherrack. Then his hands were tied behind his back. Sapnap couldn’t help but see how...small he was. It was easy, what with the golden boots and netherrite, to see him as bigger. Sapnap grabbed the lead, slipped the helmet from the alchemist’s head, and gasped.

They couldn’t have been older than fifteen. His curly brown hair was matted from sweat and potions, and his body was thin, well worked. 

What was Wilbur doing with this kid? God, he hoped he was only a messenger. But the efficiency he picked and tossed the potions with told something different.

“George, help me out. Go get his mule or something”

“Sap-Sapnap-” 

“What?” Sapnap busily tightened the alchemist’s bindings. Not noticing the way his friend helplessly laid.

“I can’t— can’t feel my legs.”

“George-? Oh god-” The rope gel to the floor in his race to get to his friend

It was then Dream walked through the portal, about to check in and maybe offer some backup. But instead, he was greeted with a child, drenched in the effects of half a dozen potions bleeding from his head, bolting to a mule.

Sapnap stood over a muttering George, trying to pull him off the ground. All the while swearing

“God guys-what the hell happened?”

~~~

Tubbo shot off into the nether as soon as he dragged himself up onto Diana. He clutched the reins tight, knuckles white, and curled in as much as he could on himself. Only urging Diana to go faster. 

Face pressed into Diana’s mane, hot tears rolling down his cheeks and evaporating moments later. His cries echoes of . Iron hissed on his tongue as he bit into his lip. 

“Go.” he whined. “go, go go-”

Arrows pelted down from the sky, bouncing off his steed’s armor. Richosheing to the nether floor. The distant yells of anger from behind him only urged Diana to continue faster.

He couldn't raise his arms to grab the milk from his inventory. They locked against each other, aching like rusty chains bars, refusing to move. The only thing keeping him on his mule was the way his foot tangled into the stirrup when he climbed on, and the way he straddled the saddle as if it was the only thing beneath him.

He opened his eyes, tears streaking down his cheeks. Both from the wind and the blood flowing down his leg. Far behind him, Dream lowered his bow. Staring after his retreating form. 

Tubbo closed his eyes and waited. For something. And arrow to imbed itself in the chinks of his armor, for one to hit Diana in the leg—but nothing came

He looked back. Dream met his eyes. The vacant stare was all Tubbo got from that mask. But dream Lowered his bow, Then, he turned. 

~~~

He slipped from the saddle, falling limply to the ground. Exhaustion and pain nipped at his limbs. 

The fact they decided to tend to their hurt instead of chase him was probably the reason he was alive. That and Diana. Her strong legs carried him far. He supposed he was lucky she was such a mild-tempered and loyal thing. But he knew luck had no factor to play in that. 

No, he had bred, raised, and trained her to be so. He was thankful for those years of work. 

“Good… good girl.” Diana winnied, reaching down and shoving her snout in his face. He welcomed it, wrapping his arms around her head. Biting into his already bloody lip, he tried to keep from dissolving into sobbs.

He had tossed slowness, weakness, and who knows what else at that one man. The heat of the moment caused him to react. But… the mixture would be near unidentifiable. The goggled man wouldn’t know what was happening to him. 

Tubbo swallowed, turning instead to his inventory. 

There was a list of things he needed to do. So many. And it latched onto it like a bible.

First, potions.

He tapped the milk, and a heavy bucket filled to the brim materialised in his shaking hands. He tossed his head back and just drank. Milk spilled past the creases of his lips, dripping down his face and neck.

It took everything in him to pull the cool white liquid that grounded him from his lips. 

The potion effects were cared for to the best of his ability. But they would still linger on his clothes for hours if he didn’t change.

His chest piece was the first to go, nearly soaked through. It was then that he realised, with some sense of terror, he didn’t have his helmet.

Immediately he opened his inventory, scouring the symbols for anything.

When he found his backup set, he immediately shoved the enchanted diamond headpiece over his head. It may have only had protection two, but it was better than nothing.

Your head and your legs are most important to protect in a fight. Your head will let you strategize and attack, your legs will let you avoid attacks, and if need be, run.

His body relaxed, and he allowed himself to take his time as he equipped the extra chestpiece. The other pieces in the set were fine, and would wear off the potion’s in a matter of minutes. 

Potion effects, dealt with. Armor, checked and replaced accordingly. What else.

The cargo.

He shot up, spooking Diana. But he paid her no mind as he opened the chests she carried. Each one, he laid out, taking their contents out and checking over them religiously. Flipping each potion. Searching for cracks and leaks. 

Only a few were unusable.

“Good. good. Alright--we’re all fine! We are!” he smiled breathlessly. “We-we can get these to L’manburg. And, and then they’ll be alright. It’ll be a snap! I just, I just gotta get out of the nether someway else and-and-”

His communicator buzzed.

TommyInnit: where are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing gave me so much trouble. I have other bits of chapters and stuff written out already, character interactions and the such, but this was a dumpster fire. the fight scene itself isn't even 1k words, and I feel like I intended much more to happen here. Sadly, action is not my strong suit. the recovering scene was supposed to be its own chapter, but honestly, the word count for every chapter needs to be at least 1k or I'll die
> 
> ALAS, COMMENT AND FEED ME. Give me power, critic, etc, the eldritch horror in the basement likes them.


	5. Dear Dest Friend, Drag me Home (is that what you call it?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy, go get your child before more trauma happens.

The portal snapped into existence before Tubbo. Sharp black edges pulling itself from the air, and a swirling purple. It hardened, and shaped itself into the familiar sight of a nether portal.

“Tubbo!”

Tommy came through, sprinting forward and body slamming into Tubbo’s. Effectively bringing them both to the ground. 

Diana winnied, trotting around the two and pawing at the ground. Tommy practically suffocated tubbo as he laid on top of him. The two laughed as they wrestled each other to the ground, Tommy’s hand in his hair pinning his head, and tubbo’s knees pressed against tommy’s stomach pushing him up.

Maybe it was the fact Tommy was a good four inches taller than him, or that Tubbo had begun learning to fight three months ago, but Tommy twisted his body around and somehow managed to pin Tubbo to the ground.

“Dude are you alright?”

“All… good… Can’t breath though-”

“Oh-!”

Tommy heaved himself off Tubbo, and Tubbo took in a breath of fresh—as fresh as the nether can be—air. He pushed himself up and leaned back on his palms. Gasping and grinning at Tommy, “Oh lord thank you for freeing me.”

“Big T! Everyone’s worried sick man—when you didn’t show up. I swear Wilbur was about to bust a vein—I was fine though. Didn’t worry a bit.” he assured, “Still, what the hell?”

Tubbo swallowed, sinking back a bit. Immediately, Tommy tried to relax, pulling away and smiling softly. The waves of anxiety flowing off Tubbo were easy to catch. Even to someone as thick headed as Tommy.

“Tubbo…?”

“I—well, there was a bit of a problem. On the nether roads I mean. I uh, lost a couple potions.” his nails dug into his shaking palms, eyes glancing between them and Tommy.

Tommy knew better than to rush Tubbo, so he sat there, biting his tongue as Tubbo tried to work out the right words. Every few seconds, he’d open his mouth and a small, “well…” would tumble out. His hands grasped each other too tightly. Tommy reached forward, and kindly pulled them apart, ignoring the little indents in his skin when they shakily opened. He offered his own hands for tubbo to hold.

After a while, he finally spoke. “Ambush… it was an ambush. I was so, so close, to the portal and the overworld and then they just came out of nowhere and-and I couldn’t beat them but I swear I tried-”

“Tubbo, who was it?” 

“The green—Dream was there, and the one with glasses and the dude with the white long sleeved shirt. Th-they outnumbered me and I was barely able to-”

“You fought Dream?” the venom in Tommy's voice drew Tubbo’s eyes from his hands to Tommy’s hard gaze. “Please tell me you kicked the green bastard’s ass.”

“Well he kinda showed up at the end. But I did toss a blind-slow-weakness mix on the one with glasses!” he offered, but the excitement in his voice was forced and weak.

It was strange, when Tommy perked up at that. The vision of George clutching his own body, shaking as he was blinded and paralized, hissed in Tubbo’s head. Burning its place there along with the potion fumes. And he couldn’t help but wonder how he would have reacted in that position. But Tommy ate the visual up with a grin and a fist in the air.

“Hell yea man! Look, don’t worry about Wilbur, alright. I’ll explain why and then he’ll ask you some things. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright… Alright!” Tubbo assured himself, “Yea.”

“Hey, get your horse-”

“-Mule-”

“And we’ll head out alright? Wilbur’s just gonna be harder to deal with the more we wait.” Tommy stood up, held out his hand, and Tubbo took it gratefully. 

He dusted himself off, and turned to Diana, who squinted at the two, and shook her head.

“Well, aren’t you grumpy.” Tubbo took hold of her bridle, leaning his forehead against her face. Most horses he raised hated that. Having something touching them where their blind spot was. But Diana was a feisty little foal, fond of getting into scraps with the colts. She only calmed down once he moved her into the sheep pen. Where the little lambs head butting her developed that strange habit of hers.

“Hey, let's get going. Stop staring at the damn thing like it’s your girlfriend.”

“She is a mule.” Tubbo snapped back,

“Yea, and Wilbur apparently got with a fish.” Tommy hoisted himself up onto his own horse, a nameless black and white stallion. Unarmored. Tubbo bet he could get something better

“What?” 

“Look man, I don't know, you’ve seen the new furry right-?”

The conversation continued as they trotted side by side, tubbo only growing increasingly more confused as the story went on. 

Oh well, he’d be in L’manburg soon.

~~~

“Just shoot it!”

“I'm out of arrows!”

“Oh no-”

Boom.

~~~

Tubbo and Tommy settled next to each other, a campfire roaring in front of them. Night came sooner rather than later. Half finished remnants of chicken and pork charring in the flames. The pork was Tubbo’s, Tommy having refused both the pork and the steak Tubbo had brought with him. And Tubbo hadn’t the faintest clue why. 

“You’re going to have to get a new uniform. That creeper really just exploded. And that was like, in your face.” Tubbo mused, leaning up against Tommy. 

“Yea, I’m gonna have fun explaining that to Wilbur.” Tommy’s clothes were singed and a bit torn. Dirty and almost unsalvageable. 

“I can come with you.” there was silence for a good few seconds. Tommy almost scared to move. It wasn’t uncommon for Tubbo to nervously mill around for a bit before Tommy made room where he was for him. Tubbo was like a cat, incredibly easy to remove, but heartbreaking to do so and watch him panicky wonder if he crossed a line.

So Tommy just settled into the role of a pillow. 

“I honestly think you may need to work on your aim.” tubbo glanced back to the creeper hole

Tommy refused to acknowledge the creeper that nearly killed him. Tubbo was just happy Diana and Tommy’s horse was fine. “It was an unlucky shot.”

“You shot it twelve times. Sorry—shot at it.”

“Unlucky shots. It got the drop on me.”

He shifted so he could look Tommy in the eye, grinning, “I’ll let you know, I would absolutely never allow myself to be-” 

A creeper exploded behind them.

Tubbo sat on the ground, knocked back several meters away from Tommy, wide eyed. “Well then.”

“See!”

“It seems that we have been exploded upon.”

“Karma.”

“Well I don't think it was karma per se.”

“No, that was absolutely karma.”

“Well we both got hit.” Tubbo said bluntly, still on the ground, staring upwards. “That was an awfully sneaky one.”

Tommy barked out a short, coarse laugh. 

Tubbo joined him. And suddenly, the walk home didn’t seem so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come get y’all juice. Put some fluff and friendship at the end. Tommy Tubbo friendship needs more love. I have the next bits written out. When they get uploaded purely falls to whenever I want to upload them. 
> 
> Current smp events? What? Don’t be ridiculous. L’Manburg’s walls just got put up!
> 
> COMMENT AND FILL THE VOID THAT IS MY SOUL. Please, questions concerns theories. I will eat them like breakfast if I ever actually have breakfast.


	6. Wool and Walls (our regrets and our saviors)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo does so much for this place.

The walls of L'manberg were tall, pitch black. Yellow ridges lining the edged, mimicking bright gold and fortune—though Tubbo knew it was fake—accented the dark.

Tommy docked his horse by a rickety farm, just within the walls. Tubbo decided to keep Diana with him after eyeing the half broken fence posts. Her lead line held loosely in his hand, and she kept pace with him and Tommy.

The sight of L'manberg brought almost as many concerns as reliefs. The sight of just…. People made him feel warm. All dressed in their revolutionary outfits. But… the too small wheat farm next to the horses, the well being barely five feet wide, it was underdeveloped. And honestly, tubbo felt safer within his jungle base.

“Have you guys set up a sheep farm? Or any farm?” He questioned aloud, staring around him as they walked towards L'manberg’s entrance 

“Tubbo, that's a farm.” he gestures to the wheat.

“That's a patch of grass.” Tubbo eyed it. “This place has barely changed since my last visit.”

Tommy shrugged, “We’re a bit busy.”

“War stuff?” Tubbo asked.

“Yea.” 

“Tommy I-I can’t constantly supply L'manberg with food and clothes. Especially with all the potions I need to make-”

“I know I know. Look, we’re gonna set up some better stuff soon, alright.”

“Alright.” 

~~~

They unpacked Diana’s saddlebags together. Tommy seemingly amazed at Tubbo’s feat of putting shulker boxes within chests. It was honestly just some simple infinity enchantments on the chests themselves.

Tubbo was amazed at his own feat of keeping tommy from doing something stupid.

“Don’t shake that! Those are the splash potions, if they break, they’ll react with one another and explode. Like, in your face. It's not exactly the best way to end a friday.”

“Ah,” Tommy set it down.

Tubbo sighed, taking the shulker box and setting it next to the others. The top half unscrewed like a spiral cork, revealing the potions nestled neatly next to each other like cartons of milk. He began taking them out, laying them out next to each other. “I’ve taken the caution of labeling the bottles. Under no circumstances mix any of them.”

“Don’t you work with these daily? There’s no way you haven’t messed up and spilled some, mixed the wrong ones, or something.”

Tommy looked back to Tubbo to see him staring off into the forest, a traumatized look in his eyes. “Boom.”

Tubbo joined in Tommy’s laugh, and did his best to ignore the way his uniform scratched up against age-old burn scars.

~~~

“Wilbur!”

He only got a couple steps, arms outstretched for a hug, before he stopped. A harsh glare cast down from Wilbur and aimed directly at him. 

Wilbur and Tubbo stood at a standstill. Tubbo frozen in spot. Tommy didn’t move either. They all sensed the danger in that moment, as Wilbur watched.

“So,” His hands were tucked in his pockets, slouched back almost boredly, but his eyes demanded both attention and silence. “Where the hell were you?”

~~~

Tubbo was just outside L'manberg, axe digging into the bark of the thick oak trees. His muscles ached with each swing, even with the enchantments that swirled over the axe.

Another tree collapsed to the forest floor, and he took the time to drag it over to the pile.

Wilbur had ratted him out for a half hour straight before Tubbo could get a word in. After, he insisted Tubbo stay in L'manberg the remainder of the week, until tensions wore down. 

With nothing to do, Tubbo got on that farm.

The lead tied around the logs, and then tethered to Diana.

“Come on girl, you think you can drag these back?” He asked Diana, almost sincerely. She wasn’t a work horse or a pack mule, but she wasn’t weak. When constructing his base, she’d dragged carts of materials, of course, not alone, but they were heavier than a couple of logs.

She snorted.

He grinned, spun around, and tugged her forward by her lead, “Yea, I believe in you. Come one!”

Leading the sheep into the pen was more difficult, first he had to find a field that actually had them, then he had to somehow convince them that following him into an enclosed pen with just 

“Hey Tubbo?”

“Yea Tommy?”

“What…. whatcha doing?”

“Sheep.”

“...sheep?”

Tubbo gestures to the pen. One of the lambs was trying incredibly hard to eat his hair. “Sheep.”

“...alright, well we need to talk.”

“Sheep.”

“Seriously.” Tommy tried, “Stop it—Stop with the fucking sheep man.”

Tubbo stayed silent, staring intensely into Tommy’s eyes. A strange fire lit behind them. They stayed silent. Then, from Tubbo’s mouth came a soft, “Bah.”

“I swear-! You know what?” Tommy put his hand up and turned around. “I don’t have to deal with this on a friday.”

“Nononono, you don’t understand-“

“I’m leaving.”

“No!” Tubbo laughed, sprinting after Tommy.

“Leave me alone with your fucking sheep-”

Five minutes later, they were both sitting inside the sheep pen. “This is absolutely stupid.”

Tubbo, quietly clipping off and gathering up the wool of one of the sheep, grinned without turning. “You just have to hear them man.”

“Tubbo—ugh.”

“They’re speaking to you.”

“What are they saying.”

Tubbo leaned his head against the sheep’s side, ear snuggled against the wool. He nodded, as if receiving what it was saying, then looked back to Tommy witty a grave expression. “She says you smell.”

“Tubbo I swear to-”

~~~

Tubbo was weaving the wool through a loom just outside his temporary home. It was a simple, rhythmic, job. He’d been doing it all afternoon.

“Saw what you did out there, with the farm.”

“Oh! Did Tommy tell you? I don’t think I put down a sign or anything that said it was me, and I didn’t see you around when I started.”

“Nah, I just kinda looked at it and went ‘there no way Tommy sat still long enough to do that’ and guess what? I was right.” He smiled lopsidedly at Tubbo. “What are you doing now?”

“Well me and Tommy were heading back, then there was this creeper, and very rudely, he blew up in Tommy's face. So I'm making him a new uniform.”

“That’s nice of you.”

Tubbo smiled up at him, and Eret just had to melt at the way his grin just seemed to brighten up the world around him, as if he had never heard a compliment before, or been quite as happy, “Thanks! I can make you a new one too? Last time you mentioned wanting a bi flag stitched on the back? The material yours is made of won’t do too well with the stitch work.”

“Where’d you learn how to work with wool and fabric?” Eret crouched down next to Tubbo, observing as Tubbo expertly wove the wool into something akin to fabric.

“Miss Madeline, back before I went off and made my jungle base. An older lady who took me in for a number of years. I wasn’t always on my own you know.”

“Hm, she taught you?”

“Yep! ‘Best seamstress on that side of the map,’ everyone used to say. And she really was.” Tubbo’s bright smile stayed, but his eyes shifted into something sad as he looked down at the wool. He was almost surprised when the first drops of water soaked into it.

Eret held him as he curled into himself, burying his face into the fabric. Arms wrapped tightly around himself as sharp sobs cut through the air. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s alright. It’s ok, you can cry.”

“I’m sorry. God—I couldn’t keep myself together for five minutes huh?”

“Tubbo.” Eret said with a seriousness to his tone. “You can feel sad.”

Tubbo snuggled deeper into the wool, his voice thick and muffled. “I know. I do. A lot. But I don’t like it.”

“It’s ok. I’m right here. As long as you want me to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE COMMENT, KUDOS, AND FEED MY SOUL. It makes me so happy reading all your comments. 
> 
> This was both late and early. Surprised I managed to pull that off.
> 
> Madeline is from a bit of a short and consist companion thing I wrote detailing life before the jungle base. If y’all want that along with journal entries and deleted scenes I’ll post it in a separate.
> 
> Comment your favorite mcyt fics and leave a link! I need new stuff to read (angst is great, fluff is great, everything is great) and all my currents update slowly.


	7. Enchantments (short filler chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the enchanting table within L'manburg was not often used. It showed.

The enchanting room within L'manberg was, frankly, disappointing. The fact nobody wore armor, let alone enchanted, really showed through the layers of dust on the bookshelves, and the closed book atop of the table.

It noticed his presence the moment he stepped past the bookshelves, spinning and opening the moment he stepped inside. Pages flipped without him touching them.

He laid the newly knit uniform on the table and set the sharp stones of lapiz on top of it. At first, the table didn’t react. Waiting.

Enchantments needed something solid to stick to. The dense, heavy plates of metal did well with that. Fabric did not. It was too loose, too natural. Any enchantments would slide right off it like water. The enchanting table itself was made of the thickest, hardest, and strongest of elements. Hard black obsidian of cooled lava as its base. Diamond corners. It was the very definition of indestructible.

So he took a needle, and thread spun from gold and gave the enchantments something to stick to.

The book flipped through it’s pages, stopping every once in a while as if to rest, then continuing to scroll through the unreadable words. They glowed with a green ink that shimmered with a strange purple. Finally, it slowed the turning of pages, then stopped.

The works on the page shifted, joining as one and swirling, until they turned into words that Tubbo could read. Tubbo was glad for the thing’s supposed omnipotence, as the words were easy to read. A dyslexic friendly font. Wilbur said it looked stupid.

The enchantments were decent, his offering of Lapiz seemingly appeasing whatever god chose them. Eyes scrolled lazily over them until one caught his eyes.

Blast protection 4.

It was stupid, it really was. One creeper explosion had him paranoid. What a child. Stupid. There were other things that would be just as useful. Still, he sighed and tapped it. 

Tendrils of green magic sprung from the words and snatched the cloths, holding them so tightly they melded into one. 

Moments later, he picked up the uniform and turned to find his friend.

When he presented the gift to Tommy, he didn’t notice the shimmering hues of purple thread that weaved themselves into his uniform. And if he did, he never mentioned anything, only accepted it with grace and snark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a short filler chapter to hold y'all over while I get all caught up. I like being a couple of chapters ahead of what I have uploaded and I've fallen behind. the blow to my word count is also a blow to my pride trust me.
> 
> PLEASE KUDOS, COMMENT. ESPECIALLY COMMENT (I love all of them so much.)


	8. Strong and Reliable. Danger and Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana is tired. Tubbo is scared. Dream is concerned.

Diana was reliable. Diana was strong and safe. Diana carried him home. Tubbo was smart and creative. They complimented each other. 

She walked in steady, rhythmic beats, carrying him forward. The path home he took features heavy forests spanning miles through the overworld. 

Wilbur had told him to take a long way—that open combat was a long way off and a few days of potion-making wasn’t critical—and Tubbo was almost relieved. The oppressive heat of the nether, even with the heat resistance, was not comfortable.

But the path and lack of pressure allowed him to get distracted. This time by a nice looking apple.

He tugged hard on the reins, ignoring Diana’s whinnie of insult as he scrambled to dismount. “Wait! Wait! Wait one moment-”

He was halfway up a tree, arm outstretched, reaching for the apple, settled just a few inches from his fingertips. Shifting his weight and setting one foot on a thinner branch, his fingertips barely brushed the red skin.

Diana nervously pranced back and forth, occasionally looking up and snorting as his form. As if to huff and say “Stupid boys shouldn’t climb trees.”

Both applied to Tubbo.

“Almost, get-get over here!” He stretched a bit closer, leaned a bit farther-

And soon Diana was standing over the lump of a boy, groaning on the forest floor.

“Maybe that was a worse idea than I thought…”

Diana huffed, light and kind, like a laugh.

Tubbo smiled through his groan, gratefully glancing up at Diana. Then hopped up.

“Alright! That-“ he pointed at Diana, then briefly back at the area he had fallen, “-did not happen.”

Diana narrowed her eyes.

“Nope. Nope! Absolutely nothing happened here. We didn’t even stop here. In fact,” he grabbed a hold of the saddle horn and pulled himself back up. 

He was laughing, grin pulling his cheeks until they hurt. In a way Tommy only ever consistently made him feel.

The sky was blue, the kind you’d forget looked like that if you were inside all day. White clouds smeared across it, paintbrush marks making the familiar highways of the sky. Tubbo hummed and rocked back and forth, impatient waiting to return home whilst also not wishing to push Diana to exhaustion.

He opened his inventory, “Oh! I already had apples. Huh.”

Diana stopped and sighed, or the closest thing to a sigh she could.

“Strange.” he tapped the icon, and the apple appeared in his palm.

If horses could judge people, Diana would never. She would just… question her choices of riders.

“Oh come on! I’m not that stupid! The apple was just… hiding. Yea. Hiding.” he nodded to himself. 

A soft heel to Diana's stomach and she slowly picked the pace back up.

~~~

Home was just as much his sprawling jungle base as it was L’manberg. Home was just as much his bees as Tommy. Well, maybe Tommy a bit more, but he really liked bees.

Tubbo’s base had seven main parts. The one, big base in the highest reaches of the tallest tree, and four others, branching out by rope bridges and connected to the other tallest trees close to the first. Like a circle. Each one with a roofed top.

Other than those, he had the small wheat farm by the river that lazily swirled and moved beneath the base. And then his horses, with their enclosures and barn across the river, and the bridge above it.

He left Diana to rejoin her herd, watching with a crinkled smile as she cantered back to them, then returned to his base.

Up the woven vine later, and into the main part, he dropped the extra bits and bobbles of his inventory into a chest by the door, and walked to the kitchen, whistling happily. 

He nearly walked by the green man sitting on the couch.

And he may have nearly screamed when he saw him.

The man was slouched, lazily over the couch, flipping through one of the many books he had on his shelf. Dressed in dark green bodysuit like clothing with built in armor, and his upper torso covered with a cream-colored poncho.

“...hello there.”

“What are… what’re you doing here? How did you...”

Dream tilted his head. “I’m this area’s admin.”

“Ah.” Tubbo was backing away slowly.

His weapons hung on the rack by the door. Closer to Dream than him. He swallowed, throat threatening to constrict on him. What an embarrassing thing, to pass out due to something totally unrelated to what was happening. 

Dream made no move to prove himself a threat. The disk shaped mask hid his face, and therefore his intent. But there was no hostility in his movements and he sat up on the couch, leaned his elbows on his knees, chin on his fists, and spoke.

“I'm not here cause I want to hurt you. I'm here to… apologise on behalf of the official Dream smp. And because I want to talk.”

“Ok.” Tubbo barely said the words, “Al-alright, we can… we can talk. Somewhere else though.”

Dream noticed the way Tubbo stared at the shimmering diamond sword. And so he elected to leave it leaned up against the couch. Following Tubbo out a door, across a sturdy rope bridge, and onto another platform high in the sky.

His beeboxes hung off the twisting branches of the jungle tree the platform resided around. Cracking fires releasing bellows of smoke up to the nests below them. Flower pots and containers growing medicinal plants were placed about. Tubbo had to trust the rhythmic sound of the buzzing and the pop and cracks of the fire to calm him, ground him as he stared helplessly into the mask of the enemy. It was the third most reliable relaxer. After the hiss of potions and ramblings of Tommy. 

They both sat down on opposite sides of a low tea table. Kneeling on cushions Tubbo crafted himself.

“Well, since I was the one to intrude, I guess I'll offer you answers to any question.”

Tubbo shook his head silently. Begging Dream to just go.

Maybe he shouldn’t have lead dream out to the garden platform. Maybe he should have went somewhere else. Or even just ran the moment he saw Dream laying on his couch. But like a deer staring into headlights, he froze. 

“Really? None?” 

Tubbo was silent, forcing himself to breathe even and slow. He pried his gaze from his folded hands, up to Dream’s mask.

Like a potion experiment, this had to be dealt with delicately. But it also had to be dealt with.

“How much of my base have you seen?”

“Only what I could see from scoping from a distance. And I guess the living room.”

Gather information, make an educated guess. Tubbo bit his lip “You’re not here to fight or steal. Are you?”

Dream shook his head. 

“But you still want something.” 

“I do.”

Dreams had to be speaking vaguely on purpose. Unwilling to give the information up on tubbo’s acord. So it was something Tubbo wouldn’t like. Something Dream had to sell. Tubbo leaned forward a bit. Straightened his back and blinked a couple times. 

The mask was annoying to deal with. Like potion making in a mug. No way for Tubbo to watch for a reaction. No seeing the fizzing before it exploded.

Dream set his hands on the table. “Done I’m guessing?”

“No. How did you learn about the Nether thing?”

“Lucky guess.”

“That’s not true.” Tubbo said, his voice holding a certain confidence that almost surprised Tubbo. Like he was just told two and two equal five.

Dream leaned back a bit.

The confidence drained a bit from Tubbo. “W-well, there… There isn’t such a thing as luck. There’s educated guesses, chance, but everything has its reasons. The… thing that happened in the Nether was not chance though. Your friends were armed to the teeth, you were-”

Tubbo stopped, then, in a whisper of a voice, asked, “Is the one with glasses alright?”

Worry and guilt dripped from the boys eyes and mouth, as if George’s safety was the only thing that mattered in that moment. Dream sighed, “He was fine.”

“Ah.”

The conversation continued. They found themselves switching names, despite already knowing each others’. And soon dream found his turn to ask. And Tubbo found himself dreading the questions.

Until the first one came.

“Are you in any danger?”

“No!” and of course he wasn’t. “Unless of course, you mean you and your posse, with which I’d have to say differently.”

The defensiveness didn’t seem to surprise Dream. “Look, Tubbo. The smp is filled with some of the most talented, honorable individuals I’ve met-”

“-I don’t need your help.” he hissed

“You don’t understand the type of person Wilbur is.”

“And you do? The only time you’ve spoken were on opposing sides. Don’t pretend you know him. He’s a good man! Him and Tommy.”

“If it’s Tommy you’re worried about, then the invitation applies to him as well.”

“It’s not,” comes Tubbo’s reply. He glares into dream’s mask, trying to pretend that it was the cocky, unchanging smile he was speaking to instead of the face beneath which the concerned voice came from. “It’s not.”

Dream nodded. “Alright.”

Tubbo didn’t pretend to be unsurprised when Dream stood. Turning around and walking back the way he came. Boots making the wood boards of the rope bridge creak. 

Yes, he still followed, albeit confused. But he didn’t want Dream to slip away into some other part of the base as Tubbo waited back. How angry Wilbur would be if he grabbed a couple potions off the shelves or snatched up a recipe book with important information about his potions. Even the idea hurt. Tubbo would be responsible for that. it would be Tubbo's fault. 

Dream walked back through the living room, picking up his sword on the way. Tubbo stopped in the living room, watching dream make his retreat before he paused in the entryway.

“My offer of sanctuary remains, Tubbo. It always will. Just whisper and we’ll help you.”

The shock and defensiveness had worn off. Revealing only the smallest sense of confusion. “Why in the world would I? I already have one.”

~~~

Dream nodded, looking away, then back. It was strange. How much smaller the boy seemed. Almost less than the one armed to the teeth in netherite. Pulling himself onto his mule even when weighed down by the potions staining his clothes and shards of glass embedded in his armor. 

He was young, surrounded by bees and potions and war.

God Wilbur. What did you do?

It was almost easy to forget the way Wilbur lured children in with a siren’s song and strange promises of kinship. With Tommy so loud and… untouched by Wilbur. But each time a child he encountered was more willing to fight Dream blade to blade than let down Wilbur, he remembered. 

They fought like a mistake was a betrayal. And Dream never could bear to leave them, to let them return to Wilbur.

And then there was another.

This one with a potions lab. Living alone. All too skinny. With bones where you shouldn't see them and too wide eyes that sparkled with fear and hope.

But this one he had to leave. 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe COMMENT KUDOS AND FUEL ME. They all mean so much. CRITIC, THEORIES, IDEAS, THOUGHTS.
> 
> Tubbo and Diana just... going places. I don't know why it's so much fun to write. ALSO, dream is very annoying to write. I have ABSOLUTELY no idea how. Do any other fic writers have tricks for him? Please share. Don't hoard ur secrets. I must know. 
> 
> Dream's appearance is based on some fanart I found a while ago. It's probably not even accurate to the fanart either. And I can't find it again. If I do I'll link maybe.


	9. Even Creation Wont Stall the Feeling (I wish i wasn't a coward.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distractions never seem to work. And Dream's presence may have messed things up a bit more than they should have.

Three black bars. Printed across his inner wrist. Thick. Uniform. Absolute.

Every player had one. From the moment they were born. And each could be taken away with death. 

He was nearly seven. Curled up on Madeline’s lap. Wirey, careful fingers wove through curly brown hair.

The fireplace made him feel warm and drowsy. And the hand in his hair only helped. Still he was able to look up at Madeline’s old, worn face, and ask, “What are player lives?”

“Who told you ‘bout that, Toby.”

“What are they?”

“Nothin’ you need to worry ‘bout. Not for long as I’m ‘ere, sweetie.”

“I wanna know!” he squirmed to a sitting position on her lap. “Tell me! I’m big now. Strong too. Please please please!”

She didn’t say anything. Only pulled him back down onto her lap and hushed him.

He found later in life there were three main ways for a player to die. 

Through the determination and will a player needed to use to kill another, one would be taken.

With the danger and magic a boss level mob radiates, one would be taken.

And then, with the stress, anger, disappointment, and or mental power one needs to die of their own volition. One would be taken.

Death by common mobs was not unusual. The universal chat linked to one’s communicator is a testament to how often it occurred. Tommy had died several times in the last month. Mostly to creepers.

“I swear they’re hunting me Tubbo. They just show up. I don’t know how.”

Tubbo dragged a sharpening rock over his blade. “Probably the hive mind targeting you.”

“The…. what?”

“The hive mind. Creepers all have a hive. They are probably targeting you. You know. The more often one blows up near you, the more likely more are to follow.” he looked up and stared straight into Tommy’s eyes. “You’re marked, Tommy.”

It took three days for Tommy to realise Tubbo was messing with him. It was a very entertaining three days. But eventually the guilt cracked Tubbo. 

“I’m sorry!”

“I’ll have you know I didn’t believe you for a second. Nobody can trick me. I’m just too smart.”

“Is that why you sprinted away from that creeper.”

Tubbo died. Once. Only a bit after he left Madeline and began the jungle base. He’d only received his communicator, born from a mix of redstone and binding magic, a year before. It happened deep in his mines. A mob of some kind.

He didn’t care to check the message sent out to the general chat. Unable to stop himself from quivering and shaking in his pitiful excuse for a bed. Crying out for the comfort of someone who was not there.

Tubbo hadn’t died since.

~~~~~

“No no, not iron. It needs too much heat.” tubbo crossed out the messy writing. “Diamond doesn’t melt at all--stone? No stupid. Stone can't make boots, dammit.”

He was sitting at his workbench, leaned over his leather journal. A frustrated pout on his face as he workshopped his idea.

Knockback boots. He’d made them once before. A long time ago. But they were worn and lost their kick a while ago. Maybe he shouldn’t have messed around too much with them, but bunnyhopping from hill to hill was a lot of fun. 

Stomping and launching high into the air. Laughing as the wind tangled his hair and the cold bite of the air made his ears and nose red. The drop of his stomach as he plummeted back down to the earth.

Landing hard on the ground, waiting for the shock of the impact, but it never came. Relief as the feather falling absorbs the blows.

“Gold? It smelts at a low temperature, right? Yea Yea. That should work.” he pulled himself from his chair, trotting over to the bookshelf. Magic imbued leather books tied with ribbon on every shelf. 

He hovered his fingers over each book’s spine, reading the names of each. Every once in a while, a book was tossed onto the ever growing pile next to his anvil. 

Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. 

He needed double that.

With a groan, he turned tail and sprinted to his enchanting room. 

Half an hour later, and two stacks of lapis lost, he had all the required ingredients he’d need.

Those ingredients were: thirty-six golden swords, thirty-six knockback one books, a lot of blaze powder, a stack of lapis, a wall of furnaces, an anvil, and a crafting table.

He whistled happily as he began. It wasn’t difficult. Just a lot of repetitive tasks. He found a strange amount of comfort in the rhythm though. Whilst Tommy would be groaning his throat raw from the boredom, Tubbo only worked silently and happily.

When each of the swords were enchanted, and a lot of levels lost, he set over to the furnaces.

Smelting enchanted tools caused the end product to retain none of it’s effects. The heat drawing the magic from the metal. But Tubbo had found a loophole.

He took a generous handful of a dark blue powder and tossed it in with the blaze powder. Grinded lapiz. The heat would draw it’s magic out as well. But would create a magic filled environment. Retaining the enchantments in the metal.

He gasped with excitement as the furnaces roared to life, flames a bright blue. With each blade set into its furnace, the metal began to warp and melt. 

Tubbo’s pencil rapidly scribbled across the pages of his notebook, barely glancing at the words as he wrote them, trying to chronicle the process before it was over. The air filled with the cracking of flames.

Soon, the metal had completely smelted. Using a metal clamper to retrieve the metal, he found himself with armfulls of palm sized gold nuggets.

“Gold gold gold, got me some gold. Gonna make a thing~” he sang as he trotted over to the crafting table.

God bless crafting tables. Otherwise he’d have to smelt them into ingots, then the ingots into boots. Luckily, he was a player, not a mob. And that came with such benefits.

He set each chunk on its own square. A light gray screen popped up, with a diagram and the result, and he pressed the transaction. The nuggets flashed, then disappeared. Leaving a smooth gold ingot in their wake.

He repeated the transaction three times more, until he was left with four golden ingots, each shimmering with enchantments.

The bars themselves were staticy, the light pulse of magic trying to repel away from touch. He held them loosely, careful not to squeeze or put too much force on them. Carefully, he arranged his ingots on the table, and turned them into boots.

“Yes!” he grinned. “Now to decorate!”

With a hot piece of metal, he set down and began to carve into the boots. Shallow dips and cuts made as he printed designs, his initials, and style into them.

He pulled back, nearly half an hour later, and marveled at his creation, a slim, tall pair of golden boots. The foxing covered in swirls and shapes. Same as the top rim. 

Still. Even with the pride he felt. The project didn’t alleviate the stress.

~~~

He hadn’t told wilbur. The enemy leader had broken into his house. Questioned him. Attempted to turn him to his side. And he hadn’t fucking told Wilbur.

A thick feeling of dread filled him as he glanced at the communicator sitting on the workbench. Each time his fingers stretched to grab it, the reminder of his failure caused him to pull away.

He only made it worse. Seconds, hours, days, and Wilbur would only become more angry. He feared that anger. 

Not the hot, boiling anger like Tommy’s. That kind eventually burned out. You can hide from it until it’s over. And come back with an apology and a hug. It was big, loud, and temporary. Fixable. 

Wilbur’s anger was cool. It stuck. Stalked you. Reminded you. It came with logic. Logic thrown in your face. Reminding you of every bit you did wrong. That it was your fault. And there’s no refuting it because it was the truth. 

It stung and stuck like frostbite. It hurt. He hated it. It made him want to run and hide and never come out because it would never be safe. 

~~~

Tubbo had this uncanny ability to have breakdowns in the worst of places.

He was sitting in the grass, arms curled tight around his knees, as he hiccuped and sobbed. No grace to it either. Just pure, ugly, overwhelmed crying in the middle of his livestock paddock.

The crack and fizzle of the potions lab echoed and banged around in his head. Too much white noise that let him drown in his thoughts. In his cowardice.

He could have picked up his communicator the moment dream walked out that door. Dealt with the consequences while it was only a little his fault. Faced less of wilbur’s anger and more of his frustration and concern. But no. He chose this.

“Stupid stupid. You can't do that right. He’s your friend. You're a coward. You’ll only hurt them more. Stop it. Selfish, selfish.”

How dare he? How dare Tubbo risk hurting them because of this stupid fear of failure. Keep flying up and you’ll fall harder.

Diana trotted around him, nuzzling her snout into his neck whenever she could, then turning tail to stomp and scare off any livestock that came too close to the strange, crying boy.

Something churns in his stomach. Like when that kind baker girl from a nearby village taught him how to make butter. It's unnatural in the most normal of ways and makes him curl in on himself. 

“Wow Di Di.” he laughed, ignoring the way it sounded more like a sob. “I’m just digging myself deeper, aren’t I?”

Diana nickered softly, leaning her head down to level with his. The bridge of her snout pushing against him. Reminding him she was there.

“I”m just… I’m gonna sit here a while, ok? Is that-” he sniffed, “alright with you?”

he laid, curled up in ankle-high grass, hiccups and sobs racking his body. Diana dutifully standing guard as Tubbo broke down in his own home. Aided by his cowardice. 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS AND COMMENT FOR FLUFF OR ELSE ONLY ANGST
> 
> Sorry if the breakdown wasn't well written. I have only experienced a couple in my years. and world-building! Cannon deaths happen due to the significance of it, the people involved in it, and from powerful mobs that take a lot to face. Tubbo has died non canonically once, as was written.
> 
> Dream's presence only messed stuff up more. Tubbo's grappling with the fact he "failed" but also with his fear of facing Wilbur. He's gonna, and its gonna go..... well its definitely gonna something.
> 
> NOW, I WILL REVEAL.... my tumblr. moonlite-drabbles, I've posted things about raccooninnit recently. like... actually raccoon tommyinnit. Later I'll post stuff about this AU. enchanment ideas, maybe deleted scenes. fun facts, anything really.


	10. Hold your Breath, Push my Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur knew tubbo like the back of his hands. He knew the buttons, and he knew which ones to press. Tommy's oblivious. Tubbo needs to prove himself

Tommy knew something was off the moment he found Tubbo, cross cross under his bee boxes. The small, plump insects buzzed about. A few resting on his friend's arm. Tommy scratched his own at the sight.

“Hey man.” He didn’t run to greet him, didn’t tackle him or sweep him into a hug. Just quietly walked over and sat by him. “What’s up?”

Tubbo hummed, and kept his eyes closed. Nails tightening into his thigh. 

He opened his eyes when Tommy slowly peeled his hands from his skin, taking them in his own. “Bad day?”

“Week.”

“Ah.”

“Tommy… D-Dream, he, uh.” Tubbo swallowed. “He showed up at my base.”

“What? What!” Tommy shot up. “You’re joking right?”

Tubbo stayed silent.

“Oh god, we gotta—does Wilbur know?”

“No.” Tubbo curled in on himself, a pathetic mimicry of him sitting on the ground in his padlock. This time he bit his lip and swore not to cry. “I didn’t tell him.”

“Wait what? Why?”

“I…” Tubbo hiccuped. “It’s my fault. I-I failed and-and-and now dream knows where everything is and where I am and and-”

“Tubbo we gotta tell Wilbur.”

“He-he’ll be mad.”

“No he wont, Wilbur’s reasonable. You know that. You'll go in there, explain what happened, he’ll listen, and then he’ll help. He always helps.”

“Y-yea I know.” 

“Tubbo.” Tommy took Tubbo’s hands, gently prying them away from where they had wrapped themselves around his head. Tubbo lifted his head from his knees, and Tommy tried to speak softly. “If you really don’t want to. I will.”

“No… no. I’ll-I’ll head back and tell him myself.”

~~~

The day was going poorly. Tubbo sat, across from Wilbur, the chair far too big for his small frame. The aftermath of an argument simmered between them. It was hard to meet Wilbur face on and defend himself. To argue his strength. The fight was just a product of the moment. And still, Tubbo was able to keep them at bay. That Dream finding him was inevitable, dream was an admin he was a player. But that didn’t change the fact Tubbo could take care of himself. He could defend himself.

Luck had nothing to do with it. It never did, Tubbo didn’t believe in luck. He believed in the way he carefully bred Diana to handle such situations, he believed in his potions and his aim, his sword and his armor. He had made each one. 

But Wilbur just wouldn’t listen.

Luck had nothing to do with it. It didn’t.

His nails dug into his palms. 

“Tubbo, after much consideration, I have made a decision.” Wilbur’s voice was hard, eyes boring down into the younger’s skull, “By order of the president, you are no longer allowed to leave L'manberg. For your safety and ours.”

Tubbo’s head snapped up to Wilbur, eyes wide, “You can’t do that!” 

“I can, and I have.”

“But-I, I have things! My-my base, my laboratory. You have to be joking.”

Wilbur sighed, a heavy, tired sigh that made the conversation seem more like a nuisance to him rather than a conversation. “Tubbo,”

“N-no Wilbur! I have things to do, Wilbur! I-I can't just-”

“Tubbo. You told us your loyalties lie with us. So for the time being, you will stay here. With us.”

“You can’t force me.” Tubbo hissed with no real malice, eyes begging Wilbur to reconsider.

Tubbo was simple. Wilbur knew this. Knew each button and which ones he needed to press.

“No. You’re right. You can walk out. Right now. And I’ll still be here, explaining to Tommy why you betrayed us. And what reason would I give him? Because you couldn’t stand to be in L'manberg for more than a couple days?”

“T-That’s not true!”

“Then why? Because you couldn’t stand to be around us? To be around Tommy. We aren’t some pet project you can just work on from afar. We’re your brothers. All this?” Wilbur gestured around him, “Requires commitment. Tommy and the rest of us aren’t just people you can send your experiments to to get tested, Tubbo. You can't treat us that way. Not Eret, not Fundy, not me and not anyone else. We are fighting a war. This is a revolution, not one of your science experiments.”

God, was he? The idea sunk deep into Tubbo’s throat, making it hard to speak. He could never stand to hurt someone, but was he doing it unintentionally? 

Tubbo swallowed back the lump, meeting Wilbur’s eyes with a frantic, pleading gaze. “I-I don’t think of you like that! I don't think of any of you like that! I just-I have responsibilities, Wilbur. 

“Either you stay. Or you go and prove yourself a traitor. Simple as that. Choose one.”

Wilbur then turned and walked out the door. Tubbo staring at the back of his uniform, sinking deeper into his chair.

~~~

Tubbo found him in the weapon shack, religiously dragging a whetstone down the blade of his sword. Arrows were set out on the fletching table nearby, a slumped over bag of flint on the floor accompanying it. 

“Hey Tommy.”

He glanced up, “Tubbo! Thought you’d left already?If you wanted me to come with you, you could have just asked. God you’re so clingy” 

Tubbo smiled, a grin that stretched his face and distracted Tommy from the red around his eyes. “Guess what? I’m gonna be staying here awhile.” 

~~~

Tommy was a wild thing. Tommy was an untamed horse in a pasture of broken in stallions and mares. Tommy kicked and whinnied and bucked.

At the same time, he sat only a few feet away. Within reach but with a stare so intense you’d mistake him for an unfed hound dog. A strange mix of pouty and starved wolf. The picnic blanket wrinkled under the press of his knees, watching as Tubbo stared blankly at the sky. Inside L’manberg’s walls. 

Tubbo was tamed, led by treats into the corral, not noticing when the gate swung closed behind him.

“Tommy, I have some things to do. Can maybe we cut this a bit short?”

“No.”

“I really need you to get off my lap.”

“Mmmm, sorry, that’s gotta be a hard no.”

“Tommy,”

“I want a horse too, like your Diana.”

“You have one.”

“Nah nah, a big strong one. Big man horse. Or woman—I don’t discriminate. But still. Big and strong and shit.”

“Tommy I really gotta go, there’s stuff-”

“And it’s gonna be tan, like my hair—and you know what?” Tommy shifted and stretched, then fell back into Tubbo's lap. Blissfully smiling as Tubbo groaned in annoyance. “We need more women in L’manburg! I’ve decided, we gotta go catch one-”

_”Tommy,”_

“Tubbo. Who cares. Eret and fur suit can make the weaponry. Relax.

“It’s not just the weaponry—we’ve gotta make room for the recruits, the bunker below L’manburg isn’t enough. And there’s not enough room up top because the walls are too small—expansion could lead to retaliation from the smp and-and...”

Tommy was silent for a moment, “...And?”

“And I need to be helpful.”

“You really don’t. Let’s do some fun shit. We can sneak out and catch some dolphins, or build a tower—out of cobblestone, obviously—in smp territory to piss em off, anything really!”

“Tommy…” Tubbo whined, but didn’t force him off his lap. Instead sinking down onto the grass.

~~~

Tommy snorted. Only Tubbo. Only he could nervously relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted some stuff from Tubbo's personal diary on Moonlite-drabbles (My tumblr) if you want some of his ideas and stuff.
> 
> Comments and kudos make me happy! Tell me about your theories, what you liked or disliked, anything! (and please god give me critic) love ya'll and have a fantastic day.
> 
> (oh yea, and I just wanna know, what's ya'lls favorite scene in the book so far? I really wanna know)


	11. You Call this my Home, and I’ll Agree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you asked Tubbo where his home was, he’d smile and point. Point to the walls. To the wild thing named Tommy, to the tall protector who named themselves Eret, and even to the siren, who called him back again and again.

Tubbo stood in front of a lecture board, conveniently covered by a large white tarp. In front of him, Eret, Fundy, Tommy, 

“Alright—I know that through Eret, Fundy and mine’s work, we have created a sustainable food source for our nation’s recruits and future citizens. But, I have gathered you all here today for this. Consider,”

He pulled back the tarp over his presentation board. Revealing diagrams of various bee related things, hives, bee boxes, and a bubble like structure labeled “BEE DOME” in red marker.

“Tubbo,” Fundy shook his head. Next to him, Eret was cackling into his elbow.

“Nononono, you don't understand; it's an untapped source of potential.”

“You have bees at your house!” Tommy groaned, tossing his head back in dramatic dismay. 

“They provide: food, fertilization,” he gestured at the diagram, grasping at straws and pointedly ignoring Tommy, “a-uh, calming atmosphere-”

“Tubbo we aren’t making a fucking “bee dome”.” Tommy rolled his eyes, but was unable to silence the grin stretching his cheeks.

“No, he’s got a point.” Fundy nodded. 

The fox hybrid was apparently Wilbur's “son”. As valid of a claim as that was, and it wasn’t very. Tubbo himself had only spoken with him a few times, once as polite introductions, and again when he asked him for a bit of trans flag stitchwork on his uniform.

“Of course _you’d_ agree.” Tommy

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fucking furry.”

“It's natural!”

“Bout as natural as your mom-”

“The salmon thing isn’t true!”

This continued on for a while. Tubbo left standing next to his bee dome pitch, rocking on his heels and biting the inside of his cheek. Eret watch with poorly contained laughs. At one point Tommy got up to try and jump Fundy, only for Eret to stealthily stick a heeled foot out and for Tommy to crash to the floor.

~~~

Eret’s hand squeezed Tubbo’s shoulder, and the man smiled down at him once before he left, “I’m sure we can build your dome after this is all dealt with.”

Tubbo grinned back, sun hidden in his smile, and watched as eret left, walking towards the pig pen he'd set up earlier that week and L’manberg’s back exit.

Tommy slung his arm over Tubbo’s shoulder. “So we’ve come to the conclusion that we have enough fucking animals in L’manberg-”

“Bees have nothing to do with foxes.”

“I don’t trust em,” 

~~~

L’manburg was becoming more and more of an issue. 

Around the war table, three sat. One dressed and adorning his smiling mask, another with arms crossed and googles strapped securely to his head, and then one, wearing a long bandana, chin sitting on his palm.

George had recovered from the splash potions swiftly. But that few hours as Bad struggled to shove milk down the idiot’s throat as he was deprived of senses was painstakingly difficult. Now he had a flask hanging from his hip. Nobody asked what was inside. 

“So.” Sapnap straightened. “Why are we here.”

Dream sighed. “Illegal accesses. Not a lot, but a few small groups have been seen bypassing world borders and entering.” 

“Server hoppers? Just contact admins and buzz them back. Simple. I have stuff to do.”

“It’s obviously not that simple Snap. We wouldn’t be here if it was. And you dont have stuff to do. I’ve been bothering you to get a hobby for ages.” George intercepted.

“I have a hobby!”

“Killing pets doesn’t count.”

“I have no hobbies.”

Dream paused, waiting for them to finish, “They’re almost all under eighteen years. And they’re trying to join the war efforts. One already arrived there. Named Fundy.”

George sat up, steely look on his face as he crossed his legs and rolled his eyes. “Alright. This war shit is getting out of hand. We need to just ban Wilbur already. Child Labor and shits enough of a reason, I dont think the higher council will get on your ass.”

The higher council. All of those who give admin powers and land, and will take away those if they see fit. Each “world” had its worthy admin. Supposed to keep the peace. 

This is where dealing with Wilbur got tricky.

“I can’t.”

“What?” they both said.

“I. Can’t. Trust me, I’ve-I’ve _tried.”_ Dream cleared his throat. “I’ve tried. After the instance with the boy-Tubbo. But I wasn’t allowed.”

“Wait-” Sapnap shifted in his seat, “So he’s a hacker?”

A few people on the server had their fair share of experiences with hackers. Unable to be banned, the go to response was to mess with them to the point they left of their own volition. Skeppy himself received an invite to join from his birth server after he and Dream worked together to mess with a hacker to the point of them rage quitting. Even despite the fact Skeppy was a normal player. A lot of slime blocks and magma cubes were utilized that day.

If so, it would be quite cathartic to harass Wilbur off their server.

“God I have just the plan-”

“No-no. He’s an admin. Not here, but somewhere else.”

After the silence settled, George spoke first.

“Well then. What do you think we should do?”

A knock on the door seemed to be Dream’s answer. “Come in.”

“Hello boys.” 

Someone in a L’manberg uniform stepped through the door, heels clicking lightly against the polished floors. A cape of blue purple and magenta falling over their shoulder. He leaned against the doorway. Eret, in all their glory, smiled at the men around the war table.

“Dream invited me.”

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos feed give me soul, and I need more. 
> 
> I’m gonna be honest. My outline ended just after here. And I am struggling to figure out what to do after the point I planned to. (I have the next bit but I’m not sure what to do, as they are taking a very forceful approach to dealing with Wilbur and there needs to be consequences.)
> 
> Eret pog!! He’s doing a good thing ;-; not traitor Eret. He’s a protector. They’re my boi. Tall man. 
> 
> Please give me ideas and theories!! This is one of my longest ongoing writing pieces!


	12. Honeycomb, Buttons and Control Rooms. (Can’t believe I trusted you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo relaxes, for the first time in a while. And then war came knocking.

Tubbo whistled happily as he trotted down a worn dirt path, basket on his forearm rocking as bobbed his head to an invisible tune. 

About a week after he’d been ordered to stay inside the walls, Wilbur had finally given him permission to walk out to _the clearing._

Soft, ankle high grass tickled his skin. Wildflowers scattered about and the dark, rich earth gave a heaviness to his deep breaths. Hidden among allium bulbs and lavender stalks, a gentle hum accented his song. 

Tubbo came up to a dead, hollowed out willow tree. “Hello!” 

He sat down in the grass, pulling various jars, leather packets, and his journal from his basket. 

He dabbed a bit of honey on the jar lid, for the bees, who fluttered around and ate their fill. Happily, he watched the move about. A hive mind working perfectly in unison. No bee taking too much or too little. It was sweet. It was a happy thing. 

He munched on his own honeycomb. A small, content smile gracing his face.

Maybe the tiredness brough by walls and Tommy’s exhaustive personality would be eased a bit, he’d plant some more flowers, get rid of some of the weeds--little red-brown vines that choked out local flora. Yep, he nodded to himself. That’s what needed to be done.

And he did that. Smiling and enjoying the simple, rhythmic work. Dirt under his fingernails. Not noticing the telltale shatter of an ender pearl landing off behind him.

“Hello Tubbo.”

Tubbo froze, biting his tongue and wrapping his fingers tight around the vines. “Dream.” 

“It’s a nice day huh?”

Tubbo slowly began to move his hands again, pulling the weeds from the ground in slow, stiff movements. He could scream. Run. Anything. But he refused to turn around, to face the frothing beast closing in on him with the heave crunch of thick boots.

He closed his eyes as the boots stopped just a few paces behind him. There was no reason for Dream to be here, not like there was before. No use Dream would have for them alive. Was this his plan? Pick them off whenever they're alone?

He tensed. Waiting for the lunge then the slicing blow of a sword to the back of his neck, or the piercing burn of an arrow through his heart. Kept his eyes closed tight and waited to open them on his bed back at his base, only two lines left on his skin. Nothing came.

“I wanted to apologise. Again.” Dream said, and Tubbo finally turned around to find him, hands in his pockets, no sword or crossbow or anything in sight.

A gentle “oh,” fell from his lips. 

They stood awkwardly. Few paces apart. Dream tilted his head, hand coming up to scratch under his ear. 

“Did I scare you?”

“A bit.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine, I just thought—nevermind.”

“I went to your base.” 

Tubbo stilled, Wilbur was right. Wilbur was correct. Who knows what would have happened had he still been there? Ransacked, kidnapped, stolen from, killed. The idea of his own home being unsafe took him by surprise, but something settled in his stomach from the idea, he shouldn’t have fought with Wilbur. Wilbur was right. He only proved himself untrustworthy and narcissistic by-

Dream didn’t miss the tensing of the boy’s shoulder or the way his breath caught in his throat and he looked away. 

He had originally refrained from tracking the boy’s location through his admin abilities, hoping to gain some semblance of trust, and partially hoping he hadn’t told Wilbur and remained in the jungle base, but that was wishful thinking.

Dream sighed, “War is coming. The real war. Not this... standoff. And I'm offering you and Tommy refuge within the smp.”

Tubbo hesitated, and for a moment, Dream thought maybe Wilbur had finally gone too far and Tubbo saw through him. He hadn’t.

Wilbur always knew which buttons to press. How far to push someone. And the boy before him stood just close enough to the edge, that a leaf could topple him over.

“Of course, my answer stays the same.”

“What does this place offer you? Why should you stay? Why _do_ you?”

Round, brighter brown eyes narrowed. Tubbo stood, his heels digging into the dirt. “Everything I'd ever need. It’s home.”

~~~

Eret was kind. Kind and hardy in such a way that Tubbo would steady himself against them, press his face into his torso, and trust the man to protect him from everything. Everything, which overwhelmed and choked him and changed far too fast.

Quiet moments were always either extremely abundant, or missing for weeks on end. And despite the calming buzz of bee wings, his own thoughts were enough to make the rest of his time in the clearing overly _loud._

So he had found his extremely tall protector and collapsed against his side. Sagging down with relief and 

“Dream came up to me again, while I was with my bees.”

Eret froze in his comfort, hands that brushed through the smaller hair freezing, then carefully resuming. He hummed, “did you tell Wilbur?”

“I-I will, I’m… I just don’t want to.” Tubbo mumbled into their coat. 

Eret sighed. “That’s alright. You don’t have to yet. He’s not going to try anything in the next afternoon. You have time.”

Looking up, the man, who looked back down, white irises smiling kindly behind sunglasses. If Tubbo was any different, any more like Wilbur, he would have found the confidence behind his reassurance strange. Peered in and saw the person who desperately wanted to tell Tubbo it’d be fine, and that the man he’d been taught to fear by the man he should was an ally, whether he knew it or not, only to hold back as Tubbo’s fingers brushed against the L’manburg pin Wilbur gave him and fluttered back down.

You could teach a dog the same lesson again and again. But it's the dog that decides if it listens. And right then, the dog wanted nothing but quiet.

~~~

The fire to the forest was brutal. Trees and beauty and nature reduced to ash. But ash could be replaced. Ash could bring life. Flint and steel struck each other, and leaves were devoured by flame. 

“The forest!” Tubbo heard screamed somewhere off. But he didn’t move, staring as nature folded back into itself and died.

~~~

Light feet hit the ground, rainwater splashing down around them. Tubbo’s bow—Rainherold—over his shoulder, and netherite axe—Shield Shatter—in hand. 

“Eret!” Tubbo called out, catching the man’s form off in the distance. He stumbled the last few steps, almost collapsing against his side. “Eret they’re going to blow it all up, we have to-”

“I know I know. Alright, I need you to listen to me.” Eret steadied him, hands on his shoulders. Tubbo nodded. “You need to get Tommy, Wilbur, and Fundy over here alright? I have a bunker. You need to be fast. Got it?”

Tubbo nodded breathlessly, turning tail and calling out for his friends.

~~~

The room was lit by lanterns that shook with every explosion outside the doors. A table in the center, and a simple wooden button resting on that. Then there were beds. Rows and rows, one for each person. Uniformly sitting against blackstone walls. 

“Set your spawns boys. We got a fight ahead of us.”

Tubbo did so without question, glancing up to Eret with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

Eret smiled back. Swallowing. His gaze didn’t move from tubbo’s for a long time. And Tubbo almost didn’t notice the silence. The distant shouts and a few explosions that once echoed outside the border that were all but missing.

“Don’t you think they should be louder?” Tubbo asked, walking towards the table. Eret didn’t answer.

Wilbur routed around in the chests, Pulling lids open to reveal empty interiors. His eyes were darker than usual. “Eret, these are empty.”

Then Tommy pushed the button.

~~~

Tubbo was on the ground, vision swimming as light smoke rose from the potions drenching his clothes. Arms too heavy to reach out and grab the milk sitting in his inventory. 

Wilbur was across the room, and with some sense of horror, Tubbo realised he was surrounded. 

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Hello bastard. Come to kill some children? Monster.” He spat, onto standing from the way he held onto the chair.

“Wilbur Soot, you have been charged with child abuse, child labor, the breaking of war crimes, tresspassing, and several other things. What do you plead.”

Holding himself up against the chair, arms shaking. Dark eyes flicked to Tubbo. Then back to Tommy. “You hurt my boys and I’ll make you pay.”

More things might have been said, but Tubbo’s head pounded, and the floor wouldn’t stay still. Swaying on its axis. Arms scooped under his armpits, heaving him up with no effort.

“Eret, how..?”

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I know you won’t get it but-” 

Wilbur was dead.

Tommy screeched. Dream was on the floor, Tubbo’s arm was held in a death grip, they were running. 

Trees. Tripping. Yells from behind him. Fundy somewhere on their tail. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Tommy hissed. 

“Tommy! What-what are we supposed to do. Tommy we gotta get out of here. Wilbur-he didnt respawn at the beds. He has to be-” at the caravan went unsaid. 

“I know Tubbo! I know.” 

Dream was somewhere behind them. Hot on their tail. Tubbo’s hand went to his inventory, a shimmery black potion in his hand. 

He turned and hurled it into Dream’s chest.

It shattered, splinters of glass flying. Tubbo watched with pride and fear as Dream stumbled and slowed. Tommy grabbed Tubbo by the wrist and pulled him forward.

Sapnap sprinted past Dream, heavy, enchanted bow in his hold. Tubbo’s eyes widened, and he turned sharply to the right. One lucky shot was all he needed.

They wove between trees. Not glancing at the arrows that dug themselves into tree bark and forest floor. There were moments tubbo was sure one would plant itself in his skull.

Tommy’s comm dinged, and for a fleeting second Tommy slowed, hand moving out to the screen.

Drawstring pulled tight, arrow notched. Aim. release.

“Tommy!”

Tubbo fell down to Tommy’s side. The arrow wound was shallow, not fatal. Almost purposefully so. The arrowhead was carved thin, and dulled around the edges. 

Heavy rain slicked their hair to their skulls and washed sweat off their foreheads. Tommy's feet slipped in the mud, a sharp cry of pain splitting the air as he collapsed. Multiple pairs of footsteps after them. No Fundy in sight.

“Wait!” Tubbo still had his bow.

He still had Rainherold. 

“Tommy, hold onto me. Tightly or you’ll fall.”

And like a man, bleeding in the mud, he did.

Bow aimed for the sky. Riptide enchantment shimmering over bend wood. Tubbo notched an arrow, pulled back.

And they shot off.

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the and of an arc. 
> 
> I feel like I hadn’t set this one up properly, but who cares. I wrote this all today, have the next bit planned, and am... content with it.
> 
> Eret was the one to pick Tubbo up at the end. And he stood by when Tommy snatched Tubbo and peaced out. 
> 
> Was this too violent for a good guy Dream fic? I dunno at this point.
> 
> Their plan was to spawn kill Wilbur until he lost all canon lives and was barred from the server. Wilbur, slippery bastard he is, didn’t set his spawn.
> 
> I don’t have the next bit written already so it may take longer than usual. Thank you all for reading!


	13. A Ravine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ravine where two boys are led closer to the siren. Across the map, an argument, disagreements, and people realizing their mistakes take place. (Tubbo really messed up this time.)

Tubbo and Tommy’s communicators pinged, not hours after they fled. 

Tommy sobbed in relief as he frantically opened his messages, eyes not moving from the semi transparent screen that flickered to life above his comm.

Tubbo, exhaughted and slumped against a tree, didn’t bother opening his, only peeking his eyes open and speaking in a quiet voice. “What does he want us to do?”

Tommy’s voice was significantly quieter now, “We’re abandoning L’manberg. He’s got basic supplies set up in a temporary base far off.”

“We’re leaving?”

“Y-yea.” Tommy replied. “He’s gonna send the new cords in a second.”

Theirs comms dinged again and both knew it was time to move.

~~~

Somewhere else, people argued around a war table. Dream’s mask pulled to the side as he yelled. 

“We could have had them!”

“Could have had what? Two messed up kids that we kidnapped? What the hell were you thinking chasing after them?”

“Wilbur didn’t respawn, Eret! You said he’d set his spawn. We could have killed him dead! Now they’re probably off joining him in whatever coked out plan he has next. And they’re with _him.”_

“Dream.” Eret snapped, rising in their seat. “We would have had two kids that hated us, and would actively try to escape, or, I don’t know, kill us? The best we could do was remove Wilbur and give them the option to stay here. They were supposed to be refugees, not fucking prisioners.”

Dream knew then he couldn’t refute that claim. Only sighing heavily and sinking back down into his seat. “What are we going to do?”

“Fundy’s here with us and we took one of Wilbur’s lives, so it wasn’t a complete blow.” George offered helpfully.

~~~

The ravine was unpolished. Rickety balconies and bridges of cobblestone creaked and bits crumbled off and fell to the floor as they walked over them. Tubbo gulped as he moved stealthily, careful where he stepped while Tommy walked confidently and unafraid, rushing into Wilbur’s arms the moment he spotted him.

“Hey Tommy.” Wilbur returned the hug. Tommy burying his face into his chest, Wilbur set his chin on Tommy’s head in return. “God I was so worried. I waited on the comms for a death message for hours.”

Tubbo smiled as he stood back. Watching the moment but not wanting to interrupt. Tommy was half elated, half devastated and constantly rechecking his comms on the way to the ravine. But he couldn’t judge. So Tubbo twiddled his fingers as he waited. 

When they finally let go, Wilbur turned to him, pulled him in with one arm for a short, fleeting hug. “Goodman. Where’s Fundy?”

~~~

“Well Fundy’s obviously _not here.”_ Wilbur hissed, “And there’s no death message on the comms.”

“So he’s captured?” Tommy offered.

“Or a traitor.”

“Heh, always knew he was a fox-”

“Shut up tommy I’m thinking.” Wilbur snapped, pacing back and forth. Tubbo set a hand on Tommy's shoulder at his disappointed ‘oh’. “Here’s the thing--would Dream keep Fundy alive? I don’t think so. So he’s a traitor. He had to be.”

Tubbo took a steadying breath in, “Dream had a, uh, well I think-”

“What?”

“I think Dream would keep him alive.”

“Tubbo. Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo. I don't know if you noticed, but we’re in a war. That's the thing, you're too innocent. You need to wake up and see that Dream, he’s not nice. He doesn’t care about any of us. Fundy’s like Eret.”

“No! No, I mean-well. Dream uh, he came to me again. He offered me a place in the smp. Tommy too.”

Wilbur’s head snapped up. “When was this.”

“Only a bit before the thing.”

“Tubbo.”

He nearly jumped in his spot. Wilbur’s dark eyes trained on him, taking a few steps forward. Tubbo leaned back every inch Wilbur grew closer. 

“You mean to tell me, that _Dream_ came to you, our enemy, the man who 

“I-I went to Eret!”

That only made things worse. “And how’d that turn out? Huh?”

“Wilbur.” Tommy said, rising a bit to pull him back. “I think we need some time, yea? Let’s all take a nap, maybe start renovations? This place smells downright terrible.”

Wilbur let himself be torn away by Tommy, silent and pensive as he let his ear get talked off. 

Tubbo slouched back in his seat, letting his head bump against stone and a relieved sigh slip from him. He’d go back to his jungle base. Take Diana and supplies, come back. Wilbur would appreciate the diamonds and iron and maybe not be so angry. 

God, he buried his face into his hands, he really messed up this time.

~~~

Tubbo always had a brewing stand in his inventory. A brewing stand, four blaze rods, and whatever potion ingredients he came across and managed to store away.

The empty corner of a ravine was no proper place to experiment. No open windows to filter out the fumes, no table to set out his ingredients as he carefully placed them down. 

Tubbo set out his supplies. All meant for potions he had made a hundred times before. And he made them again. Tossed puffer fish and sprinkled in redstone by the pinch as it stewed. Smiling as it turned a cobalt blue, flecks of red floating slowly through the mixture. 

His hands shook slightly as he set another batch of basic bottles on the rack. Pouring gunpowder into the liquid. The powder would turn the glass brittle. The type that could be shattered against the floor but wouldn’t explode in a backpack.

Tubbo didn’t acknowledge when Tommy sat down next to him.

“Hey man, I’m sorry about Wilbur… he’s just a little on edge, alright? We didn’t expect that. Not from Eret.”

“Then from _who?”_ Tubbo desperately asked. Voice strained as he stirred the potion. “It’s war.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it.” 

“I know.”

Tubbo picked the potion up by the bottleneck, ignoring the way it hissed against his fingertips. Small burns made against the pads of his fingers. Tommy didn’t notice.

“It would have changed anything. If you told Wilbur—the attack still would have happened. Wilbur knows that, he’s just angry.”

Tommy sighed when Tubbo didn’t respond. Eyes trained forward on his potion supplies. 

“Tubbo-”

“I know.”

“Well you say that then you look all sad and shit—come on,” Tommy grabbed Tubbo by the arm, heaving him up and away, happily ignoring Tubbo’s protests. “We’re going to decorate!”

~~~

Tubbo followed Tommy, stealthily mining and replacing cobble where Tommy insisted on putting red stone and diamond blocks. Blissfully ignoring Tommy’s ramblings as he did so.

“...do you think if I apologize he’ll forgive me?”

“Just like that? Doubt it. But I dunno man.” Tommy said, and in his miserable pondering Tubbo didn’t notice him crafting pistons. “Just do it.”

“I just… I don’t know what to do,”

“Look, just, fucking… talk to him I guess,”

~~~

There was no door. Tubbo knew exactly what he was walking into when he saw Wilbur, turned away from him and leaned against a makeshift desk of stone. L’manberg uniform missing, but his signature beanie remaining on his head. Hiding dirty unbrushed hair. Tan skin lit by a single hanging lantern. The corners of the room were shrouded in darkness. Probably worked on for all of ten minutes.

Maybe Wilbur would like him to fix the room. Replace his desk with a nice, polished spruce wook and an oak floor. Maybe a painting behind him. Would Wilbur like that? Would that make him happy?

Tubbo stood silently in the doorway, waiting for Wilbur to notice him. “Sir I…”

Wilbur shut him up with a smile and beckoned him in. “Tubbo, is this about the incident earlier? Don’t worry, I have found a solution for the both of us. A way to—how do I say—use this opportunity.”

Tubbo stayed silent. Limbs stiff and staring forward, not quite at Wilbur. 

“Tubbo, they want you. They want you, not Tommy or Fundy. They prioritized you ever since they found out about you. Do you know why?” He asked, a bright, dangerous smile on his face.

“No.”

“Because, Tubbo,” he leaned down, level with Tubbo’s eyes, and whispered, “You're the weak link. The one they think they can exploit.”

Tubbo didn’t reply, staring off to the side to avoid Wilbur’s eyes. It was true.

“But, Tubbo.” Wilbur’s hand took his chin and Tubbo’s eyes back to him. “You are not going to be that. You will be our spy on the inside.” 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me. Officially this is my longest writing piece and I’m happy. Yes! Spy Tubbo time. 
> 
> Comment some fun interactions between a not so sneaky spy and the smp and I might add them!
> 
> Tommy and Tubbo are only brought further into Wilbur’s web. Maybe the distance will be enough to show Tubbo the truth... or not.
> 
> Again plugging my Tumblr: moonlite-drabbles where I have posted a preview of a one shot esc work soon to come!


	14. I’ll Lie right to Your Face (and you won’t even care)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo asks for help. Unaware of Wilbur tossing him into the shark tank. People react to this is different ways.

“And I’ll be staying there?” Tubbo asked.

“And sending any information you gathered to us, of course.”

Tubbo nodded slowly, eyes trained on his lap. “So my respawn will be set there.” 

“Mmhm.” Wilbur nodded. Relaxed and unworried. The implication that came with Tubbo’s question not lost on him, but simply disregarded by Wilbur. 

If Tubbo died, he would be there. In the middle of enemy territory. One life down and several more to go. Thousands and thousands of blocks from Wilbur and tommy. Alone to die there. 

Tubbo’s fingers clawed into his skin, leaving behind the imprints of little white crescent moons. Tightening, and dragging. Threatening to spill blood. Tubbo’s jaw tightened as he stared down at them. 

All at one he released them and looked to the side.

Wilbur sighed. “Tubbo. Tubbo hey--look at me.”

Tubbo did so, and met comforting amber eyes. Squinting down at him. “If they ever, and i mean _ever_ try and hurt you, they’ll have more than just me to deal with. Alright? I know I say it less, but you’re important to me. To all this. So don’t die. Don’t leave me and Tommy heartbroken.”

“Of course.” Tubbo smiled back at him

~~~

Dream’s sword tore apart the training dummy. Each swipe and kick sending wool to the floor. He growled, moving forward. Burlap fabric ripped as he slashed downwards a final time. Leaving it a pile of cotton on a wooden stake. 

His sword fell to the floor, discarded next to the several other dummies he had destroyed that afternoon. He closed his eyes tight and leaned back, chin up to the ceiling, heavy breaks permeating the air.

“You need to chill out, man.” Sapnap commented. He stood, leaned against the doorframe.

“I am.”

“And that’s why those things look like cotton candy.” 

“Look, Sapnap, I think you’re lost. The bakery’s about three buildings over.” Dream just replied. Sapnap gave an unimpressed huff as Dream began to walk past him, catching dream by the arm and spinning him around before he could escape.

“I get you’re a bit angry and pissed off, but you can’t be angry. Not at Eret, or me, or George.”

“I can be angry at Wilbur.”

“Yea. Welcome to the club. Everyone here is. But that’s not gonna help anything, is it?”

“...How do we do it? How do we get them back?”

“Dream, you’re an admin.”

“Yea? We go and find them and kill him and we mess everything up! We fuck up the kids for life. Think about it Sapnap. Do you really think Tommy would ever forgive me for killing his brother? That tubbo wouldn’t be terrified of me? More so than he is? Fuck Sapnap theres no right answer!” he yelled, only to sink back into himself. “I-I just…”

Sapnap sighed, pulling Dream into a close hug. “We’ll figure it out, stupid bitch.”

~~~

Tubbo’s hand hovered over the message he had written out too many times. Swallowing down the fear and guilt and worry that collected thicker than concrete in his throat. It didn’t go away.

Each time he went to click send something stopped him. He froze and reconsidered the writing again and again. Changing phrasing until it was over a paragraph long, then deleting the whole thing and only writing a sentence. Then deleting that. The process had been repeated for the last two days, until he finally turned back to Wilbur. Quietly asking for help.

He copied and pasted the message Wilbur told him to send, word for word, then tossed his communicator to the floor and dropped onto his bed.

 _can we talk? Please… wilbur’s not ok. And I don’t want to stay._

He stared across his room, watching the communicator like a hawk, and nearly jumping out of his skin when it dinged.

 _i’ll meet you at your base._

~~~

“You know Wilbur must have asked him to do this, right?” George asked from the end of Dream's bed. He sat, arms and legs crossed, not looking at Dream as he pulled items and equipped his slim, form fitting netherite armor under his clothes. Letting his white poncho fall over the chest piece and the rest to blend in with his dark green and back bodysuit. 

Dream paused momentarily, considering George’s words before resuming. “Well, yes. I do.”

“And you’re just gonna let him in? Into everything you-- _we_ \--worked so hard on since this server started.”

“He’s just a kid, Georgie.”

“I know, but-but he’s dangerous. Those potions? What happens if he tries that on one of us, what-what- '' George's hand fumbled with the flask attached to his belt loop. Silver in color and simple. Nobody ever asked, but everyone knew why. “He can hurt us, Dream. He will. As soon as Wilbur gives the order.”

“We can help him.” Dream pulled George’s hands away and into his own. Rubbing his palms the way he used to when they were younger and he woke up in the middle of the night, silently crying the room over. Him and Sapnap became light sleepers very quickly. “That’s my job as admin. Look-george, I know what happened in the nether was… it wasn’t good but-”

“Dream.” George snapped. “I couldn’t move and I couldn’t see. I just had to listen to a fight that I didn't understand. Sapnap could have been dying right next to me and _I wouldn't have known,_ Dream. And-and I know he had the right. God, _we_ attacked _him_ first in the fucking nether but...”

Dream hugged George, “When I first talked to Tubbo, one of the first questions he asked me was if you were alright. He seemed so guilty about it too, couldn’t look me in the eye. George, he’s got a strong moral compass. Wilbur’s just found a way to use it.”

“But if he hurts anyone,” George warned, swaying in rhythm with Dream’s hug.

“He will need to be held to consequences. There’s limits to what he won’t be held accountable for. But, let’s at least hope we can help him before any damage is done.”

“Alright.” 

They pulled back and stared at each other a moment. Eye’s locking with complete trust. The stare lingered before George looked away. Embarrassment of his fear. Fear of a child. 

A child with potions strong enough to paralyze a man. With a sword and a bow that launched him into the clouds, and a death grip on his best friend, bleeding from the wound they gave him. A cornered animal hissing and threatening to bite. One they chose to poke with a stick.

~~~

Tubbo nearly passed out from nerves when he saw Dream in the distance, riding an armored speckled brown and black horse. Just casually trotting down the pathway, only a few minutes off. 

Wilbur was insane. Completely lost it. Threatened Tubbo for not telling him about meeting Dream in the field. Told him he was a traitor. To get out. Tommy too idiotic to follow suit. He was left alone. Tubbo was afraid what would happen to him since they knew where his base was. 

He repeated those excuses, those reasons, in his head like a mantra. Grabbed them tight like a lifeline. They decided whether Dream would welcome him into his land, or cut him down right there. 

An image of him, bleeding out on a netherrack floor, flashed through his mind. Sapnap and George tore through his saddlebags, and Diana’s let out a final, keening cry. He imagined waking up on his bed, two marks left on his wrist, and having _failed_ Wilbur. 

If he hadn’t splashed down that potion and armed himself to the teeth and trained Diana every day since her birth he wouldn’t still have each mark. Preparation saved his life again and again. And he could never have too much of it.

“Everythings gonna be fine. Yea. _Yea!_ Nothing has ever not been fine. Besides the uh, all that other stuff that happened. But surely nothing will go wrong.” Tubbo rambled to himself. The absurdity of his own words enough to cheer him up alone.

A sharp, high pitched ring cut through his nerves. He jumped. Then sighed and tapped on his communicator.

_I’m outside._

~~~

“Dream, I… I dont really wanna… Wilbur’s not ok. He-he’s not. He’s just not. I-he kicked me out, cause I didn’t tell him about… us in the field. I-I told eret instead but… heh-” Tubbo laughed weakly, “That didn’t turn out too well. But Tommy thinks I’m a traitor… and-and..”

“Get everything you’ll need. We have extra houses in the smp. Lots of open space to build your own too, if you’d like. But you should probably stay close to us. Oh, And Tubbo?”

Tubbo, who had already moved to run off and grab his things, paused. “Yea Dream?”

“As long as we’re here, he won’t get away with anything.”

Communicator, potion resources, all the clothes he could fit—bedtime stories and pestering questions—still unable to part with them, his journal, already stuffed into a shulker box and that shulker box stuffed into a chest. Sitting, lying, waiting on his bed. It’s polished wood glimmered with purple and green. Making it was a pain. Infinity enchantments were strange in the way they stuck well to wood and string, but turning that wood into a 

A sword and full set of armor, glimmering with enchantments and power, next to sixteen ender pearls. Shield Shatter and Rainherold along with his netherite pickaxe all sat next to each other. All hidden in his inventory. 

They’d have to kill him to take them from him. Only a few other resources scattered through. That was fine. He could rebuild. Rebuilding everything. They were already starting. Away. Underground. Tubbo itched for Tommy at his side. 

Tubbo took a deep breath of air, running both hands through his hair. The chest stared at him. 

“Oh quiet up.” he pouted, picking up the box and walking out the door without a second thought.

~~~

Diana was already saddled. Dream didn’t comment as he hopped back on his own horse. Not when Tubbo held tight on her bridle and pressed the bridge of her muzzle to his forehead. Or when he had to get a step stool to get on her back easier. 

But he did smile a little.

“Don’t say anything.” Tubbo glared as he settled in Diana’s saddle. 

“I didn’t.” Dream replied simply, grinning like a maniac beneath his mask.

“I swear I can get on her normally, it’s just easier this way!”

“Uh huh.”

“I did it in the nether! Sapnap saw.”

“Tubbo, I believe you completely.” Dream kicked his horse’s stomach slightly and trotted off at a slow pace. Leading her back down the trail. Tubbo pouted and cracked Diana’s reigns, following after.

“How’d you get netherite horse armor anyways?”

“OH, well I-”

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Tubbo was supposed to be a ram hybrid. My terribleness at character descriptions prevented this *slams table* we could’ve had it allllll.
> 
> Guess who wrote 3k words for a oneshot instead of doing stuff for this??? ME.
> 
> Anyways go read my other work in this fandom, Focus and Decay. It’s not gonna be continued but I enjoyed writing this.
> 
> I have officially given up on being ahead for this fic. Also expect more unpredictable updates for a bit.
> 
> I appreciate sudgestions for character interactions and plot more than my soul, and I will gladly trade it for some.
> 
> Hahaha words go brrrr


	15. Chapter 15

The smp had a strange, chaotic beauty to it. One that made Tubbo uneasy beyond all rationality. Tall buildings and towers and strange looking bases. Obvious reflections of the people who own them. As Dream led Tubbo deeper into the expanses of their territory, the architecture shifted from tall, large, intimidating bases to what looked like a renovated village. Villagers scurried about tending to their jobs and trading with the occasional player.

L’manberg was void of villagers, a settlement of only players. Which made sense, as villagers were naturally more satisfied with living small and close together, unlikely to join revolution. Unlikely to search for glory on battlefields and negotiate at meeting tables. Especially with no extra lives. Only players could find their death at the hand of a zombie and wake up in bed untouched, or traverse the nether without dying, or cross the thresholds of world borders. Villagers _died._

Children villagers and the occasional player child, marked by their pink wristbands, looked up as they moved through the town. Staring up at Tubbo upon Diana. And for a few fleeting moments Tubbo pulled on the reins and smiled down at them, feeling taller for once. 

“We have several villages inside our settlements.” Dream explained as Tubbo caught up again. Their horses walk side by side. “A symbiotic relationship. George has taken on the job of improving houses and farms and such, and we get discounts and better trades. You’re free to do your business here, it seems you haven’t brought much.”

“It’s…” he was supposed to not like it, he reminded himself. 

The homey, oak wood pillars and cobblestone foundations of the houses reminded him of his home village. In such a vulnerable, heart wrenching way. He felt like dismounting Diana there and running up the blacksmith’s steps like he was six again. It hurt and warmed him all at once. And he knew that he wasn’t supposed to feel like that. Like nostalgia. 

But he was supposed to pretend, so maybe sinking into the comfortable way it felt. Wouldn’t wrapping himself in the forest to hide from it be better than any camouflage he wore? 

“..very nice here. Diana likes it too.”

“Yes I'm sure your horse enjoys the sights.”

“Maybe a little less. She can’t see yellow or green.” Tubbo lowered his voice to a whisper, “...probably.”

Dream’s head quirked a bit his way, some unknown expression flashing beneath the mask. He said nothing. But his shoulders shook lightly. 

Tubbo held Diana’s reins with one hand, running his fingers through her long, dark mane with the other. Thick black strands of hair fell easily through his fingers, a testament to how much he stressed brushed her. Hours spent running that comb over her, brushing out dust and dirt until there was nothing to brush and his hands hurt, until Diana got antsy over the way he so obviously was in discomfort and Tubbo had to stop. 

Dream noticed the way Tubbo fidgeted as he stared around him. Trying to memorize the path, despite its linearity. 

“Have you never been here? The village--at least the modified one--is fairly new but the path isn’t. It’s been here as long as Wilbur and Tommy, actually.”

“No, I-uh, was born on the server, way out, then I built the jungle base, then met everyone. I’ve never actually been this close to spawn.”

Dream nodded, “Well, the path goes right through the village and keeps going south. Follow it and you’ll end up at Eret’s castle. It used to go north and then off to where L’manburg was, but… let’s say that didn’t work out. George lives in the village, and me and sapnap stay with him when we aret doing anything.”

“Eret lives that way?”

“Mmmhm. Well, his castle’s over there, it’s under construction.”

“Oh.” Tubbo said. He almost fell out of breath at the thought. The rest of the ride continued in silence.

Eventually, they came to an untouched area of the village, just off from the path. Dream stopped, and Tubbo followed, dismounting and leaving Diana by dream’s horse. 

The large area of untouched grassland was set right in front of some tall hills, almost completely flat except for some trees, and on the other side of the path, was a large house standing over a lake, pillars of oak trees holding it above water. oak.

“That’s the community house. It has extra beds and a stable to keep horses. Anything in the downstairs chests is fine to take, and the crops are good to harvest if you replant. The upper levels of the house is where George, Sapnap, and me live. It’s fine to go up there just ask first. This area is fine to build in. But we’d prefer if you stayed in the community house the first few days until whatever base you want is built.”

Tubbo nodded carefully, looking between the community house and the area he was permitted to build in. “thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Dream saluted him jokingly and turned back, supposedly going to the community house. 

~~~

“Now here's what I want, Diana.” He stood in front of his open land, his canvas. “Big house, Big windows. Bees. Yep. the three basic Bs of any good base. But, _here’s the thing, Di.”_

Diana turned her head from the tree her lead was tied to to look at him properly. And even though mules couldn’t logically seem exasperated, she managed to pull it off just fine.

“I want it… _horizontal.”_

Diana snorted.

Tubbo gathered up his materials. The community chests had an abundance of stripped oak logs and spruce wood. 

Houses off and around the roads that cut through and around the primary path, forming complicated streets and the largest village he’d probably seen, stood out as well. Bigger and more elaborate, some still seeming under construction. Supposedly, they were other players’ houses. All were mostly made out of the aforementioned materials, and Tubbo had decided to keep with the theme. 

Sticking out gets you killed. Killed like a president. Like a potioneer. Alone in the nether.

“I haven't worked much with oak or spruce though, so I don't know what looks good.” he mindlessly monologued to Diana. “Hey! Do you think Dream would let me borrow some wool and stuff for furniture, I didn’t bring any. Probably should have…”

~~~

Sapnap nearly fell asleep and fell off his tree branch watching the kid. Of course, the kid couldn’t see him watching him, obviously. He didn’t scale a giant oak for nothing. But if the kid was any more… uneventful, he would have been in the grass already.

He ogled at the netherite armor that Dream seemed particularly interested in before, and the strange shimmer against the wood of the chests strapped to his mule with their own impossible enchantments for a bit. But curiosity and theorising whatever the fuck was up with that shit ran out aftera while. Especially since he could just, ya’know, ask.

Just walk down over there and say what the fuck.

That would actually be kinda funny.

But besides the raw talent, the kid was actually normal. No secrets whispered to his horse about whatever plans he had, no more strange items flickering to life in his palms to be tucked away moments later. Of course what was hidden in his inventory was a mystery unless he died, but innocent until proven guilty. Kid hadn’t even laid down a bed and set his spawn yet. Would he?

Sapnap leaned forward on his heels, then back again, rocking as he watched the boy dig in the dirt, laying out the plans for his house, chatting with his horse. His horse who had shimmering netherite armor. Alright he’d ask about that later. That would be cool.

The sky was starting to darken, sunset just on the horizon, and Sapnap had found no threats residing behind the boy, so he sighed, and slipped down the tree, retreating back into the meager forest, then turning back onto the trail and walking home. 

He paused as his hand rested on the door handle, glancing back over his shoulder and watching as the boy continued on without worry of nighttime mobs. There weren't even torches laid out. The boy could quite obviously take care of himself just fine, but something in sapnap frowned as he watched the boy set his shield in his offhand and make no move to come to the community house. Shaking his head, he walked through the door. 

~~~

Tubbo’s eyes fluttered open, shocked to reality by the cold touch of the moonlight. His breaths came out shallow and quick. Cold air made his skin cool to the touch, and he briefly registered the fact he had kicked off his blankets sometime in the night. 

Any memory of the nightmare that woke him in the dead of night was absent, but the terror lingered. Heartbeat pumping in his ears. His legs barely held him as he retched himself up and stumbled off the bed. The cold of the floorboards, the ridges of the brick wall against his palm, the sweat on his neck, the soft fabric clothes Madeline made for him. He held onto them as he slowly came back.

When his breath evened out and the floor was stable enough to stand on, he stood up straight--like a true l’manbergian--and looked around. Breathing heavily. 

There were no other players sleeping downstairs, all bunks against the walls empty. He swallowed. Relief and disappointment weighing heavy in his gut. For all the reasons he wanted, needed, to be alone, some traitorous part of him--traitorous like the part that was scared of Wilbur--begged for company. But there was none.

_There was Eret?_

No. Shut up.

He pulled the door open, bare feet falling against the bridge. It rocked ever so slightly beneath him, and mixed with the vertigo already making his steps unsteady, he wanted to throw up.

Somehow, he stumbled into the stable, walking past Dream’s horse, and finding Diana, sleeping by the bed of hay. Her tail flicked as he collapsed down against her side, pressing his face into her mane. He almost sobbed in relief as she nibbled at her hair and pressed the side of her face against him. 

And when Tubbo woke the next morning, dawn on the horizon, stretching out his limbs and shaking the hay from his hair, nobody would know.

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will give Tubbo happiness and safety and tear it away.
> 
> I’m terrible at sad stuff and angst, and though I have a LOT of dreams, I never wake up in the night or really remember them, so I may be a little off.
> 
> This took so long. I had everything except the last part finished for like a week, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to complete it and stuff it in the chapter or keep it out, so I took the easy route and didn’t upload.
> 
> Also, I’m kinda proud of how I did sapnap’s POV. It’s bad but I’m happy with it. 
> 
> My tumblr is moonlite-drabbles, follow me on there I make prompts and stuff sometimes and will talk about characters. I’ll be uploading those in my other book tho if you want to just follow that.
> 
> What streamers do you watch the most, surprisingly mine is Ranboo and techno. Neither of them are in this fic tho.


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